






& 

■%. *- -• 


• 1 1 



-. -< 50 ^ / ' 

* r^ %. o 


• * • * Jk. V * A 4 \ 

• ^ * * * Or A ® * • 



^ ^ * • 
o c 

A y^/rp^ %r 

'° t^-'' °'*‘ - * 



n ’ * O^ Oj^ » L>- 

o 


o • Ik 




^ <y ^ 


0 . *_sJ:5x^^A^^ o u ♦ i«v7555b- Vx 

• < 0 ^. /i 5 

^ *0^ • • • ' <^ . t 


A' ♦ 


o 


I A 


^ .V % 


A 


V V. 


o « » 


♦ • 




• o> 


sfy *i:.Lr* > 


• < o^ 

0 . ^ 


.• ■4.'^ •», 


O • » 


»i»o' A ^ ♦ 

v^ •'I*®- ^ *1^ 


I, » « ^ '^J 


. 0 ^ 6 


% '^'<'ao« 


0 • • ♦ 

♦ ^ 


• • 


a'’ , w # • ^ 

. *fj 




> 4-^ * 

■A c^ ^y ^ 

<i ' ♦•a A * AT 

vv ♦ A^r/k** '<*0 A ♦ 

O '^/v C~ o *• ^<^/C > 


f * o. 


• A '^n -• 

■* -A 'O^ • 

“' % '*•’ A>' 

(P ^ .A -* 

■0^ .“--a»- 

°A \'^M: " * 


. - • 
I aV-^ 


A 


* A • 

^ V ' ♦ 




• ' ' ^ .*0^ 6 ®JL* -» A ^ 

•-^ V ^ 





* 4 0^ 

o -a/ ^ 


• o 


cv cA ^ * *, 

O, * m ,^* aO ^ * 



' .* 




- • 




onO' .V A , 

\/ n < • o^ ^ *0 •!/ 

v ♦ A^r yk® 

* O'’ '^A ' 

. o * . - 


L^'Cr 



^A ’O. 

4 .^ • ^ ' » A 

















PRICE 50 cts. 


^RICAN NOVELS 




WSTERY 


OF 


NEW ORLEANSi 

By W.H. HOLCOMBE 


iU 


V-l Si’' c 

-VPM C 

((if ' 


SSi!! 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 











AMERICAN NOVEL SERIES. 

SQUARE 12mo. EXTRA CLOTH, $1.00. PAPER, 50 CENTS. 

. ♦ — • ■ 

THE WITNESS OF THE SUN. 

By Amelik Rives. 


AT ANCHOR, and HONORED IN THE BREACH. 

By JUEIA Magruder. 


DIANA FONTAINE. 

By Aegernon Ridgeway 


AN EXCEPTIONAL CASE. 

By ITTI KinnEY-Reno, author of “ Miss Breckenridge, ’ etc. 


THE ROMANCE OF A SPANISH NUN. 

By Aeice Montgomery Baedy. 


TWO SOLDIERS, and DUNRAVEN RANCH. 

By Captain ChareES King, U.S.A., author of '‘Marion’s Faith,” etc. 


A NAMELESS WRESTLER. 

By Josephine W. Bates, author of ‘‘A Blind l>ad.” 


A DEMORALIZING MARRIAGE. 

By Edgar Fawcett, author of ” Douglas Duane,” etc. 


SINFIRE, and DOUGLAS DUANE. 

By Jueian Hawthorne, author of ‘‘Archibald Malmaison,” etc., and 
Edgar Fawcett, author of “A Gentleman of Leisure,” etc. 
Complete in one volume 


BRUETON’S BAYOU, and MISS DEFARGE. 

By John Habberton, author of ‘‘Helen’s Babies,” and Frances 
Hodgson Burnett, author of ‘‘That Lass o’ Lowrie’s.” 
Complete in one volt me. 


THE DESERTER, and FROM THE RANKS. 

By Captain Chari.ES King, author of “The Colonel’s Daughter,” etc, | 

for sale by all Books4ll*r$ , or will be sent, ^ost-paid, by the Publishers , on receipt o/ 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, 715 and 717 Market St, PhilaA 






. » .J 




.j, . 


V - ,. ' 

-•.t 


> 


'' ;■ .■ 


S/i> 


jl.W 'M 


vi 


> Ti 1 '•/' r 


• 'f- ■ 


dA,ivv; f 

, i 

■• ‘ . i 


; . . > 


/ /r44i3 .; 


j 


'/It .' "' 

.'■r.' iu" - r. !V'*t-fV,'T i* ’7-JO/- --/n' f 

■', - ■. ’ • S 

' ’-iji jO V7 ;.t K-v/ uli -’lo-f. L <*>.<» i’ (fT \ , ^ 

'“’^r 'Vo ■-■'«■ i’ 

-■« J'/'..- . 7 i •; ••»-’■■- “i <* 

. _ ‘A 


1 - • .*'; 3 ''A'-fM K' >?UO' 



j** •• . 


•H * 


i JioLj 


V 


' , . - ^ - ■•?>.'•.' .>vVv:- >V-.'-r' JO. ^ 

i.N-'*- ..V-*-:, .-.xi ,■■. *•■* '-r. 




I, : - 


‘T » ' -7'<V ‘.’ j '• M / . ;-'V i, r.; X? V-: o zuy'y > v, » • ' r- ^ 

I-* fj 


? • . 
/ 

HI 


^ -J:: 3-r„7«'»:S « /.<’,'?'?)■ w .-»/ /•-". .J ' 

i •.•: 7f, 




I 


' . ' '■;■ .•jJ''i^vya&‘!sV' ^!i- 

'■i-/ .-A/f-O' ;^ 3 '' '•;'‘-. 7 .'V?t’'' I ‘-‘ •■ 

A.' vjj'ja 7 S-V;’$//r .6 .lij.-,ii» 7 {. 7 \llh .jfB I *'- 

• .S.ifViV !' 7 ’oV '*1 • ■ -^ 


yp ■ 








f- 


j:..3 'imi J ,r<^*T' j 

t'i.-:-,? a'liiTVi^T .Tr.o;^ , ;-jHT 

./' • .4 .lli£•^'J J 

CM.* .ajiT 


-•;l-’j;^j :-;it ■ -NS ;v«;'<-- ■' • ; 

■ -^if--. A' "k •V': -ic , 

-•■Jii*:;*-: .:_>7 ;si;yw 5 . x,-' ^Av.viv'’'^- y'T .-- 7 :% I 

^ ' .01. /Z,' i) 

■' ■ 9 i' ‘.v.r'. .'. 'm '.7 ■■'. :■*.•■ '«' . - ,. s*."!'.' J 

«:,; '•^' jV' 7:- . . V . 

>; T:rr\m‘mj S .{- [• 




•m 










.W 


• 3 - 






4t * 


:<• 

' I 




s.'i ■’•r^ • v't. '■'■••' .. . A--.' - • »■ '/ 

•‘w '' ’ ' ■'■' • '"■■ ' '1 I - "' H'; <A V .. ’ . ‘'o ’ 




* ** ., 


. ’ ♦ .' 

‘ ^ * *. 


>* k 


Works by Dr. W. H. Holcombe. 


IN BOTH WORLDS. 

The Story of Tazarus whom Christ raised from the 
Dead. i 6 mo. Cloth, $i.oo, 

“The author of ‘ In Both Worlds’ may be cited as the most 
magnetic of the interpreters of Swedenborg. The book is 
unique, original, and singularly interesting.’’— iV. O. Times- 
Democrat. 


OUR CHILDREN IN HEAVEN. 

i 6 mo. Cloth, $1.00. 

“ Rational, beautiful, soothing, and uplifting, too.” — N. Y. 
Liberal Christian. 

“A beautiful and touching book.” — Phila. Presbyterian. 

“ A work of genius sanctified by sorrow.” — N. O. Crescent. 


THE SEXES HERE AND HEREAFTER. 

i2mo. Cloth, $1.00. 

“ A beautifully-written volume.” — Chicago Tribune. 

“A work of sustained elegance of style.” — LippincoW s 
Magazine. 

“ Rarely has the married state been lifted into so lofty, so 
spiritualized, and yet so sweetly human, an ideal.” — N. O. 
Picayune. 

THE OTHER LIFE. izmo. Cloth, |i.oo, 

THE LOST TRUTHS OF CHRISTIANITY, izmo. 
Cloth, ^i.oo. 

THE END OF THE WORLD. izmo. Cloth, $1.00. 

These books are designed to popularize the spiritual 
philosophy of Swedenborg. They have passed through 
several editions in this country, and have been republished 
in Fngland. 


For sale by all Booksellers, or will be sent by mail, postage 
prepaid, on receipt of the pricp, by 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, Publishers, 

PHILADELPHIA. 



A MYSTERY 


:> 


OF 

NEW ORLEANS. 

( 



WM. H. HOLCOMBE, M.D., 

w 

AUTHOR OF "in BOTH WORLDS," " OUR CHILDREN IN HEAVEN," ETC. 



J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 
1892. 







-f Z.’i 


Copyright, 1890, by J. B. Lippincott Company. 


Copyright, 1892, by J. B. Lippincott Company. 


Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia. 


CONTENTS 


5 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. — The Search proposed 7 

II. — Love at First Sight 27 

III. — The Probabilities considered 87 

IV. — Ninette and Rose 61 

Y. — On the Trail 62 

VI. — Rose discovers Dynamite 79 

VII. — The Old Frenchman’s Story 98 

VIII. — Preparations 113 

IX. — Modern Magic 123 

X. — The Child looms up 136 

XI. — Love in the Cathedral 153 

XII. — The Dynamite explodes 167 

XIII. — Stanford stands Firm 187 

XIV. — The Grievous Insult 202 

XV. — The Duel 219 

XVI. — The Exposure 237 

XVII. — Occult Forces 250 

XVIII. — Nemesis 265 

XIX. — Contradictions 281 

XX.— The Child discovered 296 

NOTE ON VIVISECTION 314 

SYMPOSIUM ON THE RACE-PROBLEM ..... 315 


6 



' I 




31' 


• *. 


■ *f ^ 

r • 


» ^ 






' ; 


S'- '-.< 


!• * 


. f- 





^ • • 


r 

• s »• 


r- 


' %» i 


. 1 „t- 


rTr' 

1 . 

■/I 


i •’: 

« 





msB^. 




• I iV * 




xv 




V 


•s'# 


'*?■ ' ' 


I?* 


if •, 






■• • 






./ -,» • 
w • • 


-••V s \ ^ -' 

. . K-. » » • 


[< ^ • 
^ « I • » 






•, •p- / .•• * . 

( '*»«-• 


t A 


.»'i. 


■'■ ’'ir 


6?' 

'*• , 'TfcX 

.V 

fS^ m ‘ ‘-■■■.. '* 

/ ' 

A ^ 

utm . •, 

‘i" s 

• >*, , K 

. . . ' 



. 'i*-' 




<• 


• » 
*3 


i * 

A 

>; • 


> 1 


”» « * «• ^ 

•I » • » , .. - • 

...’-• T - 


y 


* £.-'■■ • ‘ 


;i • ♦' 


• •» 


,, V’: •••.■*' 

# 


t ^‘v ^ • 


■•. ■ » 


X .♦ 


•*r 




»v: 






• • 

^'V/V "v;:'' 


' 1f*T' fv ^ 

■?'/ J • 


*. • , 


<■ 






- r / 




j . .t.'-.^ . - 


. • .» ■»» 
' r < 




, \ 


-S i 

^ 


✓ r 




fir:'.’ ■‘^ 


5^>' 


> ^"V 

>. . 


^ 5 t 

:- ■■>-■-$. X 


:•■ ''r' •: ■':'y'j ■>:-^.''.-y'''‘' *5 

* 

■ T'" . ' iW " '.J. 


-«• 


■V •» 




' I * 

A ‘^• 


:9- 






• r j ^*- ' 


*« * 


.» 


- A 




1 . 

,>• 


-’!?*yr •. , 

■ •. ■** • 

• * 'V - ' 




< 

^ *& '• 


<r -'■' * 


<V ■ *«| 

*»■ 


»> V 


. -J .. ' i. 1 VI • 

i * i * 


* 4 . . • *. -VX .-*? • 

f 

L.‘ . . - 


ft 


« < 




•c 


vf* V ij^-r-' 


K'^ 


v; 


■A •> 


•o 


k . 

'* .s 


.^'V 

kft -• 


4 ^ ’ 

•* ' •X.p • 

V 


f 


. X' /•' 




^ ^ -> 


•» . 


— *'*•. M . k \ ■ . f •. 


• .* »•• 




i / 


I* "* V • * » 




At: 


-• ^ • 


•‘H 


fV t- 


»r. •» ' 


itf'- 


- 5-J . 




5 •’ 






« « 


rt s 


■ t 


;;*.- t;- 

.VT V.:-*!!, ^ 

• * 

LV 




► ft 




- i ...• 

\f' 

<»■•• »■ • 

-.s 


4. • » 


-.A 


li» ' « 


4 

•»#. c* 


f 

Y 

• « 


•ft I •• T-. 


^ 


'■ • «*' ^7^- 


\ 


r / 


\ ' 


« 

7m 


\i 



'tr 

A 

r*. 


r I? * *.- |A - - 


%£m' *•• • 

R^'4- ■ i 


y 

i ■ 

f ' 


r * V '* ■ 


^ . 




V 


^/ •- ‘ 


ft r j 

» ^ 


if- 


ft 

*• 


» 


k L< 


f • 

V. 




r ... 

ft 



* . 

• * 

** . • ■ —'-' 

K 

<• 

■ '« •» 

-.**-.■ A ■' “ 

•ft 

ft 

v' * »" 

J <- 


- V •-- .- \r 

>*«-4 ••, • 



... 





,. V - - 



» 





'. »v* . , ^ k • 



» . 7 

• 

ft 

«• 

e .. .- 

• 

» 

^ « • * . 



.f r « . ’ 

^ • 

r J 

ft 

- * 

^ f • • ♦ -V 

1 \- * ' ' • 

ft ft • w 

••. - .'i •,' -*-• 


f . 



, 

. 

1 

. 

V 

^ » 

•♦ * 

■ » 

> V ^ •: 


'V-. . . 


^A,-" -r- * 

K’ '■ 



X - ,'^ 

',• - ' ' 




f ^ A ' 



•> 

, • •> t 

«• 


- » » «T . 

‘ WK. 

* i • • * . • ^ • 

• • , • ^ * • ^i-' 





\ 

. 


w _ ,\ti ■,: -i . k * 


» 

* • •?./•» *)^ * 

• i» ■ ‘ 

* -> 

r \ Kif.'), 

r * 

r ‘ 

1 - 


«■ 

» • 

i . " - 






• 


m - 

\ 



1 





< 

, 

k 


ft ft • 

« 

9» 

; A 

ft 

' » 

» • 

• 

,, -■'/- 
^ 1 

• y ■- 

4 


^ •» 





Mt 


» 4 _*- • ' f 

' ■ . 
• < u 


• ►>. 


4 7 *- 



r*i. 




f 

« t. ' 

• i 


I < 


I \ 


' 4 


; • 


^ ii 




'I * . i .^. 


4. 'm‘ 


f-' 


US’*- 

“^W. ; t 

( r '* ‘ -^ 




f * 


'• 1 


, f . ^ • A .. 


_ » 


. . * .Ls 


-'• ^r . 

m 

» 




- k 


/.. » ‘‘V 

A /'» 


V 


14 




* *• 





tj, 




f k. 


_ 5 -- 


•• 




« • 




: Sfiti: 


''>A ^ ^ 




*i‘-' ; 


4 • 


sSg 



A 

MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


CHAPTEE 1. 

THE SEARCH PROPOSED. 

To understand the extraordinary business which 
brought Mr. Hugh Stanford to New Orleans about 
the first of March, 1885, it is necessary to go back a 
fortnight and see him in the city of Chicago, his place 
of residence. 

One cold evening in February he rang the bell of a 
stately mansion on Indiana Avenue, and was ushered 
through a luxurious, steam-heated hall into a magnifi- 
cent parlor and into the presence of Mr. Ephraim 
Clarke. This white-haired, dignified gentleman, an 
alderman in proportions, a clergyman in suavity, with 
a Websterian head and front, was one of the million- 
aires of Chicago who had not amassed his fortune by 
the thieving process of cornering wheat or pork, but by 
honest industry and legitimate speculation. He was 
an intelligent, public-spirited man, irreproachable in 
private life and deserving his enviable reputation of 
being both just and generous. 

The young gentleman who entered the room with 
cultivated ease and grace was a special favorite of the 

7 


8 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


Western Croesus. He was an architect by profession, 
and, although not more than thirty years old, had 
already proved himself such a genius in his line of 
work that his talents were in great demand. He was, 
moreover, a student, especially of all new questions, 
and his fine imagination was well balanced by his 
practical sagacity. Mr. Clarke greatly enjoyed his 
conversations on scientific, social, and metaphysical 
problems. The old gentleman rose from his chair, 
readjusted his spectacles, which he had laid aside to 
read, as all near-sighted men do, and gave him a 
cordial welcome. 

I am sorry the young ladies are out this evening,’^ 
he said. ‘^They have gone to McYicker’s to see 
Emmett. All who love children, grandfathers and 
grandmothers especially, should see ^Fritz^ at least 
once in their lives. I can forgive that rascal all his 
dissipation — indeed, I cannot believe he ever was dis- 
sipated — when I see him march upon the stage in his 
paper-cap, beating his drum and shouting like a child 
with the children. Joe Jefferson in his specialty is 
different and greater, but Emmett is vastly enjoyable.” 

Stanford merely nodded assent to the criticism. 

I am glad, sir, that the ladies are out to-night,” 
he quietly remarked ; but immediately added, with a 
touch of gallantry, for the very first time in my life, 
sir ; but I have called to have a special conversation 
with you, I may say a confidential conversation with 
you, to-night, uninterrupted by others.” 

Mr. Clarke elevated his heavy eyebrows with a little 
expression of surprise, but straightened himself back 
in his arm-chair, and said, — 


THE SEARCH PROPOSED. 


9 


sir, I am entirely at your service.” 

^^Has anything been done, Mr. Clarke, more than 
was done at the time, to clear up the mystery of the 
sudden disappearance of your brother Gordon Clarke 
and his little daughter in New Orleans some twenty 
years ago ?” 

At the mention of his brother and the child a deep 
solemnity settled rapidly upon the millionaire’s face, 
as if the memory of some great sorrow had cast its 
shadow on his countenance. 

Do not suppose, my dear sir,” Stanford hastened 
to exclaim, that I recall these painful recollections to 
you out of idle curiosity. I will explain to you pres- 
ently the motives of this interview.” 

So much was done at the time,” said the portly 
old gentleman, with a sigh, ^^that it seems impossible 
that anything else could have been done with the 
slightest hope of success.” 

Some occult studies,” said Stanford, in which I 
have been lately interested brought the case to my 
mind, and excited a train of thought which suddenly 
invested it with a new and startling interest.” 

Mr. Clarke leaned a little forward and cast a sur- 
prised and inquiring look at the speaker. 

You will greatly oblige me,” said the latter, “ if 
you will state, as clearly as you can remember, the 
circumstances of your brother’s disappearance, and the 
measures which were taken at the time to discover 
what became of him.” 

^‘Gordon Clarke,” began the lost man’s brother 
after a moment or two of solemn silence, '^was a 
person of great intelligence and industry. In 1859 he 


10 


A MYSTERV OF NEW ORLEANS, 


married a blooming Chicago girl and went to Cali- 
fornia with a small capital. He was a bold and 
a successful speculator. When the civil war broke 
out in 1861, he found himself in a painful position. 
We were Kentuckians by birth, and he had been 
educated at the University of Virginia, where he 
was taught the doctrine of State rights as against 
national sovereignty, — the universal political creed of 
the South from Thomas Jefferson to Jefferson Davis. 
Devotedly attached to the federal union, he opposed 
the national unity which was contemplated in co- 
ercing the sovereign States, and rather than take part 
in the struggle he expatriated himself until it was 
over. 

‘‘Before leaving his country he sent me the bulk 
of his earnings, some twenty thousand dollars, and 
begged me to invest it for his family in the suburbs 
of Chicago; another proof of his far-sighted policy, 
for that investment is now worth half a million 
dollars.” 

“Which, I suppose,” said Stanford, “have long 
since been divided among his heirs-at-law.” 

“ No, sir. He had a curious clause inserted in the 
will he sent me. The property was to remain in- 
alienable from himself and his heirs for twenty-five 
years, after which, if no heirs appeared, it was to fall 
to me and my family. The time expires in 1886, — a 
year from this time.” 

“Then it is immensely to your interest that the 
heirs, if any there be, should remain undiscovered.” 

“Of course, commercially speaking; but I would 
gladly give a million dollars to-day to see Gordon 


THE SEARCH PROPOSED. 


11 


Clarke and his child. Bat to proceed with his 
story : 

^^He drifted down to the Pacific coast of Mexico, 
and finally to Costa Rica in Central America, where 
he made some mining ventures, which grew from 
small beginnings until they became very profitable. 
When he heard of the battle of Gettysburg, foreseeing 
the end, he began speculating on the differences between 
gold and greenbacks, and realized a large sum. When 
he learned that General Grant had taken command 
in Virginia and was moving towards Richmond, he 
turned his steps homeward. The end did not come 
so soon as he expected, and he was detained several 
months in Havana, where he had the dreadful misfor- 
tune to lose his wife and eldest child by yellow fever. 
On the collapse of the Confederacy he landed in New 
Orleans with his little girl two years old. I have 
always wondered why he did not go direct from 
Havana to New York.’’ 

‘^Considering the chaotic state of affairs in the 
South at that time,” said Stanford, “ and the compara- 
tively greater ease and safety of the route by New 
York to Chicago, it is, indeed, singular that he should 
have gone to New Orleans, and the reason why would 
take us the first step, and perhaps a long one, towards 
the solution of the mystery.” 

“However that may be,” resumed Mr. Clarke, 
“the step was fatal to him. He and his child disap- 
peared, and we have discovered no trace of either of 
them since. There is positively nothing left of him 
but his last letter written the day before he left the 
city, or at least intended to leave it.” 


12 A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

Did you keep that letter or a copy of it ?” said 
Stanford, eagerly. 

I have preserved it with the greatest care.^’ 

“ It will be invaluable to me,” said Stanford. Will 
you permit me to see it ?” 

Certainly,” replied Mr. Clarke, looking curiously 
upon his young friend as he rose from his seat. I 
keep it in a private secretary in my bedroom.” 

The old gentleman went up-stairs, and Hugh Stanford 
sank into such a deep revery that he did not hear him 
return. Mr. Clarke gazed a moment or two at the 
abstracted man, and then thrust the letter into his hand. 

The document was yellow with age and the ink 
considerably faded. As Stanford opened the letter a 
little folded piece of paper dropped out. It contained 
a little lock or curl of golden hair. 

Ah, yes,” said Mr. Clarke, that is a lock of his 
child’s hair. You will see Mary Gilford Clarke 
written on the inside of the paper. Gilford was her 
mother’s maiden name.” 

Doubly, doubly fortunate !” exclaimed Stanford, 
excitedly. ^^I am on the trail of the child. This 
little curl belonged to the bud. I shall find the 
woman who is the full-blown rose of that bud.” 

What upon earth do you mean, Hugh Stanford ?” 
said the old gentleman, fixing a stern, critical eye upon 
his young friend, as if he suspected he was intoxicated 
or delirious. You might just as reasonably expect 
the resurrection of the dead.” 

‘^You shall one day exclaim,” said Stanford, ^^‘The 
dead is alive and the lost is found !’ But come,” he 
said, quietly, ^Met us read the letter. 


THE SEARCH PROPOSED. 


13 


“ H6tel des Grangers, New Orleans, La., June 20, 1866. 

“ Dear Brother, — We arrived here a week ago from Havana. 
I would have written sooner, hut have been seeing the sights of 
this curious old city, a queer mixture of Paris and Madrid. The 
young doctor and his beautiful wife who came over from Cuba 
with us are natives here and have contributed much to our enter- 
tainment. 

“ This French hotel is a curiosity, and its mixture of guests, 
native and foreign, returned refugees and soldiers, drummers and 
speculators, actors and actresses, is something appalling to a tired 
American in search of repose. In fact, it is a bedlam, — a chaos in 
the transition state between war and peace. I wonder the doctor 
brought us here, when the St. Charles and the City Hotel in the 
American quarter are really good establishments. 

“ I shall leave for home with my precious little daughter, now 
two years old (I enclose a lock of her hair), one week from to-day 
on the ‘Madison Belle.’ This is a very good boat running to 
Cincinnati, hut we shall leave her at Cairo and strike by rail for 
Chicago. I choose the river route because I have the child in 
charge, and she will have so much comfort and freedom on the 
boat. Besides, the railways through the South have been badly 
broken up by the war, and travel is uncertain and sometimes even 
dangerous. I have nearly a hundred thousand dollars about me 
in drafts upon New York, London, and Paris, and must be very 
careful of my valuable person. 

“ The doctor has been almost officiously attentive to me, and 
I tire of his endless stories of Parisian medical students. His 
lovely wife, however, has played the mother charmingly to little 
Mary, and taken the utmost care of her. She is herself almost a 
child, not more than fifteen ; a strange, brilliant creature, subtle 
beyond her years, at one moment coquettish as a kitten, the next 
as sombre as a tragic queen stepping forth from the canvas of some 
grand old Murillo. 

“ Ah, well 1 it is useless to write more, we are to meet so soon. 
Loving embraces to each and all. 

“ Your affectionate brother, 

“Gordon Clarke.” 

The two men were silent for several minutes. This 
old faded letter was the last visible link in a human 

2 


14 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


life, after which all was mystery and darkness. The 
melancholy relic awakened tender memories in one of 
these men and profound speculations in the other. At 
lengtli Stanford roused himself and broke the silence, — 
Please, sir, go on with your story.” 

^^Well,” said the old gentleman in a lower and 
softer voice, I heard no more from Gordon. Three 
weeks passed and I became uneasy. I telegraphed to 
the proprietor of the French hotel. He replied that 
Mr. Clarke had paid his bill on the 21st and had his 
baggage removed to a steamer bound for Cincinnati. 
Then he had started a week earlier than he intended ! 
I consulted the river column of the papers, and found 
that the ^Madison Belle’ had just been laid up for 
summer repairs at Madison, Indiana, where she was 
owned. I telegraphed to her ofl&cers, and received the 
startling reply that no such persons were passengers on 
the up trip of their boat. 

now became thoroughly alarmed, and hastened 
at once to New Orleans. I visited the French hotel, 
and found ^ Gordon Clarke and child’ registered in his 
own handwriting on June 10. The proprietor and 
clerks described my brother accurately, but said they 
had seen very little of him on account of the crowd 
continually coming and going in their house. My in- 
quiry for the doctor and his wife reminded them that a 
young gentleman and lady, apparently foreigners, were 
frequent visitors to Mr. Clarke’s room. They were 
not guests of the house, and they did not know their 
names. They understood that the couple were newly- 
married Cubans on a brief visit to relatives in the 
city and soon to return to Havana. 


THE SEARCH PROPOSED. 


15 


then instituted the most thorough search im- 
aginable. Not trusting to my own sagacity, I employed 
an able lawyer to assist me in my investigations. We 
made the most minute inquiry at all the hospitals 
and asylums. We advertised for my brother and his 
child in all the newspapers, and offered large rewards 
for any information which might lead to their dis- 
covery. We set a strong detective police to work on 
the case, and especially to spot every man about the 
city who seemed to have come into the sudden posses- 
sion of a good deal of money. They toiled at it faith- 
fully by all their cunning methods for many months, 
but finally gave up the pursuit in despair. 

^^We examined the files of all the daily papers 
printed about the time of Gordon’s disappearance for 
accidents, murders, thefts, arrests, suspicious people, 
etc. We found absolutely nothing which had any 
bearing upon our case, except perhaps one item which 
startled us for a moment. 

well-dressed stranger had been found dead on 
the night of June 20, 1865, in one of the stalls of an 
oyster-saloon near the H6tel des Strangers. We ex- 
amined the place carefully. The proprietor had just 
sailed for Europe, but the person left in charge gave 
us satisfactory information. He said the stranger had 
gone into the stall for a drunken sleep, but when they 
went to turn him out at midnight he was discovered to 
be dead. Some small change was found in his pocket, 
but no papers or other means of identification. The 
coroner’s inquest rendered a verdict of death from con- 
gestion of the brain, induced by heat and excessive 
drink. He was buried in potter’s field. It was so 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

utterly improbable that this circumstance had any rela- 
tion to Gordon Clarke that we dismissed it from our 
minds. 

I received the friendliest attentions and aid from 
all the persons with whom I came into contact in New 
Orleans. It was with a heavy heart that I turned my 
face towards New York, where a startling disclosure 
awaited me. I went from bank to bank inquiring if a 
man named Gordon Clarke had presented any drafts 
or any exchanges upon foreign cities for collection. I 
found two institutions at which Gordon Clarke had 
been accommodated to the amount of a little more 
than ninety-seven thousand dollars. The bank officials 
described him as a tall, fine-looking man, with dark- 
brown hair and moustache, and a face much tanned by 
the tropic suns. They said he brought genuine letters 
of introduction from their correspondents in Havana, 
and presented papers and vouchers that identified him 
to their satisfaction. One of them remembered that 
Mr. Clarke had told him of his wife’s death by yellow 
fever, and that he was about taking his only little 
child with him to Chicago. 

“ Nor did my efibrts end here. I have since ad- 
vertised repeatedly at intervals in the New Orleans, 
Havana, and New York papers, offering large rewards 
for any reliable information concerning either the 
father or the child. Nothing has ever come of it. 

^^Now what am I to think of all this?” the old 
gentleman continued. ^^Was my brother murdered in 
New Orleans? Did the murderer secure his papers, 
personate him, counterfeit his handwriting, and obtain 
his money from the banks? Or did Gordon change 


THE SEARCH PROPOSED. 


17 


his mind about taking the ^Madison Belle’? and 
did he go to New York by rail or by sea, and was 
he then murdered and robbed, either there or on his 
way to Chicago? Or, most incredible of all, did he 
pocket his fortune and sail for Europe or the tropics, 
abandoning friends and country forever ?” 

Stanford made no reply to these questions, but re- 
read the letter, and pondered over it in silence for 
several minutes. 

He suddenly looked up and exclaimed, — 

Did it not appear singular to you that the young 
doctor and his beautiful wife, who paid such devoted 
attentions to your brother and his child, did not come 
forward and assist you in the search when you were 
advertising for them so extensively in all the papers ?” 

I supposed they had gone back to Cuba.” 

No ; that is a false scent. They were natives and 
residents of New Orleans. The young doctor had just 
finished his medical education in Paris. They had re- 
turned from Europe via Havana after several years’ 
absence, and I see no reason why they should have 
hurried back to Cuba. 

Your brother speaks of them in that short letter 
as if he had already mentioned them to you in some 
previous communication, which probably miscarried. 
The name of that doctor would be of immense value 
to me. I have heard that the French population of 
Louisiana frequently send their children to Paris to be 
educated. I shall write this evening to a young friend 
of mine now studying in that city, and beg him to 
search the catalogues of all the medical schools for the 
names of New Orleans students who may have gradu- 
b 2* 


18 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


ated in 1864 and 1865, and to send them to me at once 
in New Orleans.” 

You astonish me,” said Mr. Clarke. What can 
interest you so deeply in this young doctor and his 
wife ?” 

Stanford did not answer the question, but sank into 
an apparent revery. Presently he said, — 

Do you know the immense value of hypothesis ? 
Mill in his Logic declares that a good working hypoth- 
esis is sometimes the surest instrument for the dis- 
covery of facts. I have framed a strong hypothesis in 
relation to this case, and already perceive how fruitful 
of results it is going to be.” 

Explain yourself,” said Mr. Clarke getting evi- 
dently interested. 

Let us suppose that the young doctor and his wife 
are persons impecunious and without conscience, just 
returning home from foreign countries in the midst of 
the social confusion which always exists at the close of 
a great civil war. They form in Havana the acquaint- 
ance of an American gentleman, affable, confiding, 
generous, and credulous, with an immense sum of 
money about him. They foresee such favorable oppor- 
tunities that they devise a cunning scheme of murder 
and robbery.” 

Incredible !” exclaimed Mr. Clarke with emphasis. 

^^We are only supposing,” said Stanford, lifting 
his hand. Having matured their plot, they persuade 
their intended victim to abandon his natural intention 
of going direct to New York and to visit New Orleans. 
They represented, and no doubt greatly exaggerated, 
the wonderful attractions of that semi-tropical city. 


THE SEARCH PROPOSED. 


19 


On their arrival, what do they do ? Escort the 
stranger to the best hotel and introduce him to all their 
charming Creole acquaintances ? No : the hypothesis 
demands that they shall act otherwise. They take him 
to an obscure, out-of-the-way foreign hotel, where he 
will be certain not to meet anybody who had ever 
known or heard of him. They seek other lodgings 
themselves, still further to conceal their movements. 
The hotel officials see them constantly with the Clarkes, 
but do not know their names. They pay father and 
child the most assiduous attentions, not by introducing 
them to other people, but by imposing themselves con- 
tinually upon them. They are even obtrusively, offen- 
sively polite, which means that they keep the strictest 
watch over them, waiting their opportunity.” 

You are a veritable lago at insinuation,” said Mr. 
Clarke, excitedly. You will make me begin to sus- 
pect these people. You astonish me !” 

“ Prepare for a greater astonishment,” said Stanford, 
coolly. The man found dead in the oyster-saloon was 
your brother, not drunk, but poisoned !” 

My God !” exclaimed Clarke, with great feeling. 

What a horrible conjecture ! Poisoned ? You surely 
do not believe it?” 

My hypothesis demands it and the facts fit the hy- 
pothesis. Well-dressed, healthy-looking young gentle- 
men do not die of drunkenness in oyster-saloons. Such 
persons also have always some money or papers about 
them, unless — mark me ! — they have been abstracted 
before the coroner reaches the body. No, sir; the 
young doctor decoyed his victim into the oyster-saloon 
and made way with him by some quick poison, while 


20 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


his beautiful wife took excellent care of the child. 
The doctor paid his friend’s bill the next morning, 
and ordered his baggage to the ‘ Madison Belle,’ but 
deflected it adroitly to his own quarters.” 

My poor brother !” groaned Clarke, beginning to 
be convinced ; and his bones lie in potter’s field !” 

^‘The guilty pair,” continued Stanford, conjecturally, 
^^nstantly fled to New York. The cunning doctor 
personated Clarke. The dark-brown hair and mous- 
tache and the sun-burnt countenance were artificial 
presentations, lest some parties might have known or 
heard of Clarke’s physical appearance. He then pre- 
sented his papers, counterfeited his signature, having 
practised at it awhile, and obtained his money. The 
couple sailed for Europe on the first vessel, and spent 
the most of their ill-gotten fortune in riotous living.” 

Why do you think so ?” 

The hypothesis demands it. There never yet was 
but one Eugene Aram, who obtained wealth by mur- 
der for lofty, educational purposes and spent it quietly 
and wisely. Blood sticks to such coin, and finally 
drives the unfortunate possessor into the depths of 
misery or into the hands of justice.” 

What do you suppose became of those people?” 

^^If living at all, I am sure they are in New 
Orleans.” 

‘^In New Orleans? It is the last place I would 
have thought of.” 

My theory is that, after expending their fortune, 
they found it difficult to live in the overcrowded Old 
World and returned to the New. Do you not know 
that there is a strange fascination or fatality which im- 


THE SEARCH PROPOSED. 


21 


pels a murderer with advancing years to return to the 
scene of his crime? Many a criminal has forfeited 
his life in that manner. Thinking himself safe and 
his deed forgotten, he walks thoughtlessly of his own 
accord into the trap which the avenging Nemesis has 
laid for him. Yes, there is great probability that I 
shall find them in New Orleans.” 

Hugh Stanford !” exclaimed Mr. Clarke, with un- 
concealed admiration of his friend^s sagacity, “you 
should have been a detective or a lawyer. Now, what 
do you think became of the child ?” 

“ I do not believe that they murdered the child. It 
was not necessary to their success, and would have in- 
volved additional risk and difficulty of concealment. 
They gave it to no one, however, not even to an 
asylum, for that step would have subjected themselves 
to observation and have left traces which might have 
betrayed them. The safest way to get rid of it was to 
abandon it on the street.” 

“ Poor little creature !” said Mr. Clarke ; “ how sad 
to think of it ! Your views have interested me as 
deeply as if you were narrating facts instead of in- 
dulging in plausible conjectures. Why was it that the 
person or persons who took the little girl up did not 
answer my numerous and urgent appeals for a lost 
child?” 

“ That convinces me,” said Stanford, “ that the party 
who found the child immediately left the city with it, 
and never heard of the rewards offered for it. For 
that reason I believe it will be more difficult to dis- 
cover Gordon Clarke’s daughter than to defect his 
murderer, but neither is impossible.” 


22 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


Now, Mr. Stanford,’’ said the old gentleman, will 
you please tell me what induces you to suppose that, 
after the lapse of twenty years, the slightest clue to the 
discovery of these persons can ever be obtained ?” 

When I have succeeded in my enterprise, unearthed 
the murderer, and restored you the child, you may 
write upon my narrative of the mystery the words 
^solved by new methods.’ ” 

New methods ? I believe truly that Vidocq him- 
self, travelling the old lines of detective thought and 
pursuit, would achieve nothing here ; and I am very 
curious to know what new methods you propose to 
follow.” 

Methods which at the first mention will excite your 
incredulity, perhaps your contempt.” 

You surely do not mean to consult spiritual me- 
diums ?” said Mr. Clarke, in a deprecating tone. 

I have no faith,” said Stanford, quietly, in ninety- 
nine out of a hundred professional mediums. I am 
perfectly aware of their own diseased mental con- 
ditions, and of the fraud and cunning with which they 
supply the lack of genuine phenomena. But there is 
a grain of wheat in the bushel of detestable chaff, and 
that single grain is the very thing we want, and which 
may be of inestimable service to us.” 

Stanford,” said Mr. Clarke, seriously, ^^it is a 
great puzzle to me that a man of your strong common 
sense and practical experience should imagine that any- 
thing true or valuable could be extracted from that 
spiritualistic muddle. Don’t be annoyed at my re- 
mark. The greatest men are said to have a weak 
point somewhere in their conformation.” 


THE SEARCH PROPOSED. 


23 


“Spiritualism will always remain a muddle, sir,” 
said Stanford, seriously, “ until men of common sense 
and practical character take earnest hold of it, study it 
by scientific methods, eliminate the false elements 
from the true, bring order out of chaos, and teach us 
to utilize its possibilities.” 

“The mine is unproductive,” said Mr. Clarke, with 
a resolute shake of the head. 

“Do not misconstrue iny meaning, sir. I shall 
have very little to do with mediums, those blind, igno- 
rant workers in the lowest sphere, who do not and can- 
not comprehend their own mental conditions, or even 
explain the philosophy of their daily procedures. One 
gets nothing from them but mystification. No, sir; 
I take a loftier, broader view of these questions than 
any of those people are capable of imagining. I have 
studied the great leaders and masters of idealism, the 
elucidators of spiritual phenomena, the adepts in occult- 
ism, the scientific explorers of the new psychology, — 
Swedenborg, T. L. Harris, Oliphant, Kingland, Bla- 
vatsky. Braid, Charcot, Bernheim, Binet, and the Pro- 
ceedings of the British and American Societies for 
Psychical Research, — and, I assure you, sir, not in 
vain.” 

“ And what, sir,” said Mr. Clarke, with a touch of 
incredulity in his voice, “ has been the practical out- 
come of these investigations, that you propose to apply 
your knowledge to the discovery of two persons lost 
under extraordinary conditions twenty years ago?” 

“We are discovering a new world of thought, Mr. 
Clarke,^ — ^new ideas, new issues, new methods. We 
are laying the foundations of a new metaphysics, a new 


24 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


theology, a new therapeutics. We are grasping the 
true relations between mind and matter, between mind 
and mind, and between the individual mind and the 
aggregate mind of the race. We are finding the right 
keys to psychical phenomena, — transference of thought, 
transference of sensation, prevision, clairvoyance, clair- 
audience, and thousands of occurrences hitherto deemed 
incredible. We understand now the indestructibility 
of ideas as well as of matter, the permanence of im- 
pressions, the registration of everything which has ever 
happened, in the psychic ether which surrounds us, 
from which all antecedent phenomena, sights, sounds, 
thoughts, deeds, may be evoked by special processes 
under proper conditions. The past is written in in- 
visible ink. We have discovered the secret of making 
it visible again. The time is coming when nothing 
can be hidden, when even our thoughts cannot be 
concealed.” 

Hold ! enough !” said Mr. Clarke, smilingly. You 
overwhelm me with your brilliant ideas. I cannot take 
them all in at once. And yet, you half persuade me, 
you half couvince me. Your enthusiasm is con- 
tagious.” 

Yes,” said Stanford, earnestly, ^^and now behold the 
practical issue, the fruit of all our speculative labors. 
I am confident I shall find in New Orleans sensitives, 
clairvoyants, hypnotics, through whom I shall obtain 
clues of thought, however faint and subtle, which I 
shall follow step by step according to purely natural 
laws, hitherto unknown or unrecognized, until I shall 
be led to tangible and positive proof of what became 
of Gordon Clarke and his child.” 


THE SEARCH PROPOSED, 


25 


All this is truly, truly wonderful to me,” said 
Ephraim Clarke. It dazzles but does not instruct. It 
is not light to me, but lightning. 

But tell me,” he said, after a moment’s pause, ^^since 
spiritual forces are not limited by times and spaces as 
natural things are, why not pursue your whole course 
of exploration here in Chicago, where the facilities, I 
presume, are just as great as in New Orleans?” 

“ Because there is some occult atmosphere surrounding 
localities which retains impressions of all the deeds 
committed in them. It is reasonable to suppose that 
a sensitive can perceive them on the spot more readily 
than elsewhere. Besides, sir, no matter what was dis- 
covered in Chicago or elsewhere by psychic methods, 
we would have to go to New Orleans at last for 
external verification.” 

“ True,” said Mr. Clarke, waiving his objection. 

Now, my dear sir,” said Stanford, we come to the 
motive and object of this nocturnal visit. I propose, 
with your consent and assistance, to resume the search 
' for your lost brother and his child on the principles I 
have indicated. I need a little rest from business, a 
little recreation and change of air. I shall recuperate 
my own powers, and work for you as a detective on a 
new line in our great southern metropolis.” 

This interview,” said Mr. Clarke, has interested 
me profoundly. It has awakened memories which I 
shall cherish forever. It has aroused hopes which I 
am almost afraid to indulge. I have perfect confidence 
in your intelligence and your discretion. I shall be 
delighted to render you any help you may require in 
this extraordinary undertaking.” 

^ B 3 


26 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


I shall need the letter and lock of hair you liave 
shown me, some favorable introductions to influential 
men in New Orleans, and your ready endorsement in 
offers of very large rewards for information upon the 
subject I have taken in hand.” 

All these you shall have, sir,” said Mr. Clarke, be- 
nignantly ; and if you bring that niece of mine home 
unmarried, I will give her to you for a wife, and she 
shall bring you half a million dollars as a dowry.” 

Thank you,” said Stanford, smiling. I already 
feel the matrimonial yoke materializing about my 
neck.” 

But come,” said the old gentleman, as Stanford rose 
to depart, wait until the ladies return from the theatre, 
and we will discuss Fritz and his little folks over a 
bowl of punch.” 

Stanford observed that his mind and his heart were 
too much preoccupied with graver matters and declined 
the invitation. 

Standing in the door-way he said to Mr. Clarke, 

Do not mention this conversation to any one. The 
issue must determine whether I am a fool or a philos- 
opher.” 

If you fail,” said the old gentleman, it shall be 
buried in my bosom ; if you succeed, it shall be pro- 
claimed upon the house-tops.” 

How many learned, scientific men, leaders of public 
opinion, would have smiled with derision at the folly 
or the audacity of this undertaking ! 

So little do we know ! 


LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT 


27 


CHAPTEE IL 

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. 

On a bright spring morning Jackson Square, New 
Orleans, is a beautiful place. The dews which had 
silvered the leaves and the grass have evaporated and 
left them a brilliant green. The walks which circle 
about the well-trimmed lawns are composed of tiny 
white shells and are entirely free from dust. The 
flower-beds, of varying forms and sizes, are already 
gorgeous with blooms : jasmines and jonquils and sweet 
olives, oleanders, myrtles, and roses, verbenas, petunias, 
pansies, marigolds, and camellias, whose very names are 
suggestive of grace and fragrance and beauty. This 
shining area is bounded away off at the four sides by 
great walls of evergreen. One cannot traverse the 
whole square without meeting the orange, the fig, the 
magnolia, the palm, the banana, those special types of 
Southern vegetation. 

New Orleans, you will remember, is on the same 
parallel of latitude with Cairo in Egypt. The Missis- 
sippi Eiver is its Nile, and the Gulf of Mexico its 
Mediterranean. Yet it is much colder than Cairo in 
winter, and is never so hot in summer. 

In the exact centre of the square stands a life-sized 
equestrian statue of General Andrew Jackson, the hero 
of the battle of New Orleans, and the seventh Presi- 


28 A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

dent of the United States. It is the artistic work of 
Clark Mills, and is the first statue ever constructed of 
the horse in the attitude of rearing. In one of the 
broad stones of the granite pedestal the famous words 
of the impetuous rider are engraved : 

The Union Must and Shall Be Preserved, 

words accentuated and decreed perpetual by the result 
of the greatest struggle upon historic record. 

Across Chartres Street, which bounds one side of the 
square, rises the great cathedral of St. Louis, flanked 
on each side by the curious old court-houses built in the 
Moorish style of architecture during the Spanish domi- 
nation in Louisiana. Under the marble flags in front 
of the Altar of the Sacred Heart in this imposing edi- 
fice lie the bones of the founder and builder of it, Don 
Almonaster, a Spanish grandee, illustrious, wealthy, and 
pious. Every evening at sunset the cathedral bell is 
still tolled in memory of this departed spirit. 

On the north and south sides of the square, known 
as St. Peter and St. Anne Streets, are the Pontalba 
Buildings, two long rows of massive, three-story brick 
houses with iron verandas in front, twelve in each row, 
and all exactly alike. They were erected by the 
Countess Pontalba, the daughter and only child of the 
munificent founder of the cathedral. These houses 
were once the favorite abodes of wealth and fashion, 
but have long since fallen from their high estates, and 
have been left stranded by the ebbing away into other 
parts of the city of the fickle tide of prosperity. 

On the fourth and last side of the square one sees, 
across the broad river front that intervenes, the chim- 


LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT 


29 


neys aod smoke-stacks of steamboats and steamers, 
which show where the greatest commercial artery in the 
world is pulsing towards the sea. 

The great cathedral clock in the tower has just struck 
six. People of all ages and costumes and colors are 
passing to and fro, in and out of the square ; people 
going to mass, people going to market, newsboys, shop- 
girls hurrying along, nurses and children, slow prom- 
enaders for health, awkward sailors tanned by sun and 
wind, loungers, and strangers. Evidently one of the 
latter class, a fine-looking gentleman, about thirty years 
of age, quick and elastic in his movements, enters from 
the river-side gate. He takes a seat about the middle of 
the square on one of the semicircular iron benches with 
which the grounds are liberally provided. He glances 
all about him with an intelligent and pleased curiosity. 

This person is evidently a man of culture and refine- 
ment. He is a little above medium height, muscular 
and yet graceful, with fair complexion, chestnut-brown, 
crispy hair, brown eyes and moustache. His face ex- 
presses intelligence and mental strength. He is neatly 
dressed in fashionable style, with well-fitting gloves, 
shining boots, and a light cane in his hand. He is ap- 
parently a travelled, educated gentleman of leisure. If 
one were clairvoyant enough to read the visiting-card 
in his pocket-book, one would discover that he was Mr. 
Hugh Stanford, of Chicago. 

When the stranger had satisfied himself with a con- 
templation of all the objects around him, he sat musing 
awhile. Some pleasing train of thought expressed 
itself in the quiet smile of his handsome face. Per- 
haps he was reviewing with high hopes the plan he had 
3 * 


30 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


formed for the success of his singular mission. Per- 
haps he was only thinking of the curious people and 
things he had just seen in the old French market ; per- 
haps only of the banana-colored beauty who had served 
him with a delicious cup of coffee, and whose great 
pensive, black eyes and enormous gold ear-rings at- 
tracted the attention of every passer-by. 

Something of more decided and permanent interest 
suddenly entered his field of vision and gave a new 
and still more pleasing direction to his thoughts. 

The very graceful figure of a young . woman, who 
came out of one of the Pontalba Buildings and entered 
the square from St. Peter Street attracted his attention. 
The lady advanced slowly to the bench upon which he 
was sitting and sat down at the farther end of it, not 
seeming to be aware of his presence. Her walking- 
dress was of the finest material and exquisite fit. Her 
bonnet with its floral adornments was a marvel of taste. 
Her face was oval, nose and lips as perfect as Cleopa- 
tra’s were supposed to have been, complexion clear 
white with a faint rose-tint on the cheeks, hair wavy 
brown and full of sunbeams, and dark, deep, gray eyes 
with long eyelashes, such as are often seen in Irish 
beauties. Strength as well as loveliness of character 
were revealed in her expressive countenance. There 
was an air of elegance and refinement about her, which 
indicated gentle blood and high breeding. 

The possessor of these charms sat a few moments in 
silent, unconscious abstraction, punching the ground at 
her feet with the bronze tip of a dainty parasol. Stan- 
ford regarded her attentively, took her in from head to 
foot, absorbed her, analyzed her, comprehended her, 


LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. 


31 


and said to himself, This is some splendid rose of 
southern society with all the color and perfume of 
aristocratic life, but there is something grandly, beauti- 
fully spirituelle in her nature which would survive the 
destruction of all her surroundings/^ 

As if suddenly realizing the proximity of the 
stranger, and surmising without a glance at him that he 
had been fixing intensely curious eyes upon her, the 
young lady rose and walked slowly towards the cathe- 
dral. Stanford watched her receding form until it dis- 
appeared in the door-way of the sacred edifice, and then, 
no doubt unconsciously to himself, he gave a deep and 
unequivocal sigh. 

Left alone to his reveries, our hero suddenly experi- 
enced a very singular mental perception. When the 
little blindfolded boy in the old familiar game is re- 
ceding from the object he is trying to find, the other 
children cry out, ^^You are cold, colder, very cold 
When he turns and approaches nearer and nearer to the 
object, they exclaim, Oh, you are warm, warmer, 
very warm Moving blindly and unconsciously on 
the great playground of life, Stanford suddenly felt 
“ very warm,” as if he was strangely near to some great 
realization. He gave this spiritual impression no 
definite meaning, but he vaguely felt that he would like 
to know, and indeed must know, something of that 
beautiful woman who had appeared and disappeared 
like a dream. 

Every reader of the least penetration knows that 
Mr. Stanford now felt a strong desire to see the interior 
of the grand cathedral of St. Louis. The central altar 
was ablaze with light, representative of the spiritual 


32 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


illumination of the soul. The tinkling of silver bells 
had just announced the elevation of the Host, and the 
little crowd of early devotees was kneeling before it. 
He sat down at a respectful distance behind them and 
awaited, not withont some vague sense of religious 
exaltation, the conclusion of the ceremonies. 

When the worshippers were dispersing, he observed 
that the lady in whom he was interested moved to a 
side-altar, consecrated to the Blessed Virgin, and en- 
gaged in private devotions. He therefore busied him- 
self in studying the paintings, statues; and stained 
windows which adorned and enriched the cathedral. 
He thought of the gallant, chivalrous, and aristocratic 
character of the founders of the French colony in 
Louisiana, some of whose mortal remains were buried 
in the vaults beneath his feet. These men were the 
root-stock or fountain-head of the Creole civilization, a 
young France in America, a social state distinguished 
for the courage and honorable bearing of its men, the 
beauty and refinement of its women, and the highly- 
polished manners of both sexes. 

The young lady now passed out of the cathedral 
into the wide, paved alley which extends from Chartres 
to Eoyal Street, closely followed by the observant gen- 
tleman. 

Behind the cathedral is a considerable area shaded 
by trees and ornamented with walks and flower-beds. 
There Stanford noticed a young priest reading a little 
book, probably Thomas a Kempis or some manual of 
devotion, as he moved along. His black robe, open in 
front, floated behind him. He was bareheaded and 
his hair was parted in the middle. He had a fair, in- 


LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. 


33 


nocent, boyish face. This child of nature denying 
nature, this mystic surrounded by realities, this dreamer 
in the midst of a wide-awake world, was a curious 
study to the advanced thinker who was passing by. 

He had time also to glance at the stately white pea- 
cock, which strode about spreading his immense feathers 
under the myrtle-trees which adorn the spot. He won- 
dered why that monstrous bird, so emblematic of pride, 
should be harbored in those sacred precincts where 
humility is taught as the supreme virtue. 

At the corner of the alley and Eoyal Street, the fair 
saint moving ahead of him dropped a coin into a 
tin cup held in the mouth of a pitiful black dog, whose 
master, blind in reality or “ by profession,^^ squatted on 
the pavement grinding a doleful wail out of a little 
hand-organ. The gentleman behind her did not follow 
the lady’s example. Glancing at the grovelling, obse- 
quious face, which revealed the degrading influence of 
begging upon the human soul, he said to himself, It 
is not charity which the poor require of the rich or of 
government, it is justice and work. If there were 
justice on all sides, none would either suffer or beg.” 

The willowy figure, symmetrical, attractive, with its 
perfect walking-dress and its pretty bonnet, now moved 
around into Orleans Street, and passed under the long 
gallery of the building once known as the Orleans 
Ball-Koom. There the white bohemians of former 
generations used to meet the octoroon belles and those 
of still fainter trace of African descent in the festive 
dance. Inspired by delicious perfumes, frantic violins, 
and sparkling champagnes, they lost themselves in the 
labyrinth of pleasure from midnight to daybreak. 


34 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


Many a misfortune, many a mesalliance, many a duel 
resulted from those nocturnal imprudences. 

How changed is everything now ! The house has 
been reconstructed, and is used as a convent for colored 
Sisters of Charity. The maddening whirl of pleasure 
has given place to the solemn atmosphere of devotion. 
Venus, ^Hhe silver splendor, the white rose from the 
rose-white sea, the full flushed, the imperial,’^ has been 
banished forever, and the Mother of Sorrows has been 
enthroned in her stead. The only inhabitants of the 
place, once so full of light and music and dalliance, are 
some homely black women arrayed in black, who kiss 
their rosaries and count their beads in sepulchral 
silence. 

Passing around the next corner into Bourbon Street, 
our morning-walker and her follower were soon oppo- 
site the great French Opera-House. This immense 
building, capable of seating twenty-five hundred lis- 
teners, is the only one in the United States solely and 
permanently devoted to music. This institution is one 
of the many winter attractions of New Orleans, and 
one of the most charming centres of social and fashion- 
able life. Perhaps our unknown beauty as she moved 
along thought of its brilliant assemblies, its gorgeous 
scenery, its magnificent orchestra, its splendid troupe 
of Parisian artistes ; and perhaps saw herself, as the 
world had often seen her, sitting in her baignoire 
exquisitely dressed, flushed with innocent and joyous 
excitement, entertaining the group of admiring young 
gentlemen before her. 

A square or two more and she came to an imposing 
three-story brick building with a handsome granite 


LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. 


35 


front. A considerable grass-plot at the side, with a 
large water-fountain in the middle, and several fine 
crape-myrtles in full bloom, could be seen through the 
iron railing, spear-shaped and bronze-tipped. The 
whole side of the house towards the yard was covered 
with delicate clinging vines, so thick that the windows 
fiieemed set in a solid wall of green. 

The young woman, still unconscious of the hand- 
some fellow who had shadowed her, tripped up the 
steps, opened the broad door set in a deep recess with 
a private key, and disappeared from sight. Stanford, 
half ashamed of having followed a strange lady so far, 
passed leisurely in front of the house, and read on an 
old-fashioned, brightly-polished, oval, brass door-plate 
in script the name 



Bless me f ’ he exclaimed^ in a state of high ex- 
citement, drawing some letters from his side-pocket 
and running them over in his hand until he came 
to a certain one. What a wonderful coincidence ! I 
have here a letter of introduction to Colonel Emile 
Du Valcourt. I am the happiest of mortals 

Delighted with the morning’s adventure, he now 
thought of the good breakfast which awaited him at 
the H6tel Eoyal. As he turned into St. Louis Street, 
and saw the great white front of the hotel looming 
imposingly above all the other buildings for a solid 


36 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


block, he noticed a tall man with a large nose and 
very large black eyes entering a door-way a little 
ahead of him. 

He had the curiosity to observe the building, which 
had once been quite stylish, but was now considerably 
out of repair. A little sign upon the door, gold 
letters on a black tin plate, attracted his attention. 

DE. HYPOLITE MEISSONIEE, 

Magnetiseur. 

He recorded the number of the house upon a little 
tablet and said quietly to himself, “I may have use 
some time or other for this magnetizing gentleman.” 

He was soon prefacing his breakfast at the H6tel 
Royal with a plate of delicious strawberries and cream. 
While waiting for the more substantial elements of the 
meal, he opened the New Orleans Picayune and glanced 
over its pages, but he probably remembered nothing he 
had read, for presently he muttered to himself, — 

If all the society ladies here are like that one, what 
a fairy-land New Orleans must be !” but he quickly 
added, — 

Nonsense ! There’s only one such woman in the 
world !” 

Ha ! ha ! Mr. Hugh Stanford ! Love at first sight ! 

Now for the reveries, the sweet fancies, the air- 
castles, the startings, the blushes, the absent-minded- 
ness, and all the traditional signs of the lover I 

“ Forever young is Phantasy alone. 

For that which never — nowhere — came to pass, 

That — that alone shall nevermore grow old I” 


THE PROBABILITIES CONSIDERED. 


37 


CHAPTER TIL 

THE PROBABILITIES CONSIDERED. 

Stanford’s first move in his efforts to solve the 
Gordon Clarke mystery was to visit a distinguished 
lawyer, tell him the whole story of Gordon Clarke 
and his child, explain his own mission and expecta- 
tions, and retain the gentleman as a legal counsellor 
in the case. 

I advise you, in the first place, to offer some very, 
very large reward for satisfactory information concern- 
ing the fate of either the father or the child. Beyond 
that I do not see how I can be of any service to you 
at present. Your case is without a precedent, sir, and 
your methods are unknown to the law.” 

‘^New methods may possibly establish new prece- 
dents, and law and justice be the gainers. I do not 
expect much help from you during my chase, beyond 
some general suggestions as to persons and measures ; 
but when we are in at the death, as the hunters say of 
their game, I may need your assistance very much, for 
I must have the stamp of legality upon every step I 
take.” 

The first speaker in this conversation was George 
Denfield, attorney-at-law, and the place was his capa- 
cious office in the handsome Denegre Building on 
Carondelet Street. Although still young, his talents 
4 


38 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


and strict attention to business bad already secured 
him a prominent place at a bar always crowded with 
distinguished men. He was the fortunate possessor of 
that self-confidence which is born of conscious strength 
and innate force of character. He was a brilliant 
representative of an estimable and wealthy Creole 
family. His figure was slight but perfectly formed 
and graceful ; his voice and his address were pleasing 
and attractive. One was struck immediately with his 
very large, expressive black eyes, and his high, evenly- 
rounded, and ivory-white forehead. He fond of 
physical exercises, and whoever tested his strength 
found him an athlete in body as well as in mind. 

‘^You astonish me,’^ he said to Stanford, ^^by the 
positiveness with which you speak of doing things which 
seem not only improbable but absolutely impossible.’^ 

I would never achieve my end if I did not have 
positive faith in my power to do it.” 

^^It seems to me,” said the lawyer, ^Hhat you are 
endeavoring to construct a grand edifice on a very 
small material basis, — an old letter and a little lock of 
hair ! Your pyramid is inverted ; it cannot stand on 
its apex. How can you reasonably expect to obtain 
any information on such a subject and from such 
sources after twenty years? An Indian would say 
the trail is dead-cold.” 

It is singular,” said Stanford, replying indirectly 
to the question, how easily men catch the idea that 
spirit is independent of space, and with what difficulty 
they comprehend the correlative idea that it is also in- 
dependent of time. They concede that mind can 
operate through spaces without regard to space ; but it 


THE PROBABILITIES CONSIDERED. 39 

is difficult to conceive that mind under proper condi- 
tions can just as readily see what happened a thousand 
years ago as it cognizes what is now transpiring/^ 

Your statement certainly needs elucidation ; for 
why should we not just as easily see things which are 
to happen a thousand years hence V’ 

Man may know everything of the past, because it 
has already been recorded or registered somewhere in 
human consciousness and is preserved forever. Spir- 
itual things — ideas, thoughts, motives, feelings, emo- 
tions — are all just as indestructible as material sub- 
stances. They become quiescent or latent to us, but 
they are never changed nor annihilated. The diffi- 
culty is to find out where they are recorded and how 
to bring them out again to our perceptions. Now 
you can see why our insight into the future is very 
limited. What has not yet been recorded in human 
consciousness is beyond our reach, except by reasoning 
from causes to effects.” 

How are you going to make the old letter and the 
lock of hair available in penetrating the mysteries of 
the past ?” 

Let me tell you the story of Robert Browning and 
his great-uncle’s gold shirt-studs.” 

^‘Agreed,” said the young lawyer, drawing out a 
cigar-case and offering it to the architect, who discreetly 
declined, having an instinctive aversion to the great 
American poison. 

^^You will find what I am going to relate,” said 
Stanford, ^4n the London Spectator of January 30, 
1869. I mention this because lawyers will generally 
credit nothing except upon authority. 


40 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


When Eobert Browning, the great poet, was living 
in Florence, a friend brought to his house, without 
previous intimation or introduction, a certain Count 
Giunasi, of Eavenna. This gentleman professed to 
have great psychometric and clairvoyant faculties, 
and offered, in reply to Mr. Browning’s avowed scep- 
ticism, to convince him of his powers. He asked Mr. 
Browning if he had any memento or relic about him. 
It so happened that he was wearing some gold shirt- 
studs, which he had recently put on, in the absence, by 
mistake of a seamstress, of his ordinary buttons. He 
had never worn them before in Florence or elsewhere, 
and had found them in some old drawer, where they 
had lain forgotten for years. 

“ One of these studs he took out and handed to the 
count, who held it silently a little while, looking earn- 
estly into Mr. Browning’s face. He suddenly exclaimed, 
with considerable excitement, ^ There is something here 
which cries in my ears. Murder ! murder !’ 

^^Mr. Browning seemed astonished, and candidly 
confessed that those studs were taken from the dead 
body of a great-uncle of his who was murdered on 
his estate in St. Kitt’s nearly eighty years before. 
The studs and a gold watch were produced in a court 
of justice as proof that robbery was not the motive of 
the slaves who committed the deed. The occurrence 
of that murder was unknown to every one in Florence 
except to Mr. Browning, and he had long, long ago 
forgotten all about it. The question is, how did Count 
Giunasi get the conception of murder from merely 
handling that little article ?” 

‘^He must have got it in some other way,” said 


TEE PROBABILITIES CONSIDERED. 


41 


Denfield, or that story is as incomprehensible to me 
as some of Browning’s poetry.” 

Before Stanford could reply a gentleman entered the 
room, apparently fifty but really sixty years of age ; 
large, well-proportioned, with blue eyes, auburn hair, 
and slightly gray beard, wearing gold spectacles, neatly 
but plainly dressed in black. 

Denfield rose and greeted him cordially. 

I am glad to see you, doctor. You are the very 
man needed on this occasion. Let me introduce you 
to Mr. Stanford, of Chicago. Mr. Stanford, Dr. 
Holden.” The gentlemen shook hands. 

^^Dr. Holden,” he continued, ^4s classified as a 
homoeopathic doctor, that being the prevailing color 
he wears; but he maintains that the supreme business 
of the physician is to cure his patient, and that for such 
purpose he should study and avail himself of every 
means provided by nature or art, regardless of names, 
creeds, or schools.” 

Thank you,” said the doctor, with a quiet smile, 
for defining my professional status so clearly. 
Hippocrates, the father of Greek medicine, said that 
diseases could be cured in three different ways, — allo- 
pathically, homoeopathically, and antipathically. Ho- 
moeopathy, you see, is a very old idea. It remained 
nothing but an idea until the scientific genius of the 
present century made it practical and fruitful. The 
highest type of physician is one who learns all and 
uses all, not at the dictate of his patient, but in the 
exercise of his own enlightened judgment.” 

That’s so,” said Denfield, emphatically; ^'and 
now, Mr. Stanford, this is the man to whom I in- 
4 * 


42 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


tended to refer you as an authority in the very ab- 
struse matters upon which you are building your 
hopes. He has studied all spiritual subjects from the 
occultism of India down to the voudouism of St. 
Domingo.’^ 

^^You very greatly overestimate my attainments,” 
said the doctor, with a deprecatory movement of his 
hand. 

Denfield then briefly gave the doctor an outline of 
Stanford’s mission and expectations. At his request 
Stanford repeated the story of Robert Browning and 
the Italian count. 

The human mind,” said the doctor, is on the 
threshold of a new temple of wisdom. The incredible 
becomes possible and even probable, simply because 
we have obtained knowledge of laws and forces 
hitherto unknown to us. This Browning incident was 
a case of mind -reading or thought-transference : cere- 
bral sympathy as Dr. Elliotson defined it ; unconscious 
cerebration as Dr. Carpenter named it. Unconscious 
cerebration is thinking without knowing that you are 
thinking. By cerebral sympathy your unconscious 
thought is transmitted to another person, who imagines 
it is his own. 

^^The story of his great-uncle’s murder had once 
been registered upon Mr. Browning’s brain-cells. 
When the gold studs were put into the clairvoyant’s 
hand an unconscious transfer of thought took place 
from Mr. Browning’s mind to the count’s mind, with- 
out the cognizance of either, and was perceived by the 
count as a spontaneous intuition connected with the 
article held in his hand. It was a fact entirely within 


THE PROBABILITIES CONSIDERED. 43 

the province of natural phenomena, and explicable by 
laws with which we are acquainted.” 

^‘An acute and rational explanation,” exclaimed 
Denfield. 

Now,” continued the doctor, if Mr. Browning’s 
mind had been entirely out of the question ; if he had 
lost the gold stud in the street; if the count had 
picked it up and derived his impression of the murder 
from the substance alone, the facts would have been 
more puzzling, and would give some additional support 
to the theory that spiritual atmospheres adhere to, or 
are in some way connected with, material objects. Or, 
to state the case more clearly, material objects may be 
connecting links between a mind now surveying them 
and some other mind which had formerly been im- 
pressed by them.” 

“ You state exactly,” said Stanford, the foundation 
of my hope that this letter and lock of hair will bring 
some sensitive expert into rapport with the minds of 
Gordon Clarke and his child. I will now cite you a 
case in which a material object brought to clairvoyant 
sight a scene which transpired two hundred and fifty 
years before, under circumstances which preclude the 
idea that it could possibly have been a thought-trans- 
ference from any mind living in this century. It is 
an incident related by Prof. Gregory, of Edinburgh, in 
his ‘ Letters on Animal Magnetism.’ 

^^A gold ring, history entirely unknown to every 
person present, was put into the hands of a very 
powerful clairvoyant. He described a terrible scene 
of murder : armed men rushing into the chamber of a 
lady, a man of foreign aspect, already in the room. 


44 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


clinging frantically to the skirts of a beautiful woman 
and imploring protection from his assailants. He is 
dragged to the door and there stabbed to death in her 
presence and in spite of her supplications. No one 
listening to the clairvoyant had the least suspicion of 
what the vision meant. It was afterwards discovered 
that the ring had been fished up out of the water, im- 
mediately beneath the window of a certain room in the 
castle where Mary, Queen of Scots, had been imprisoned. 
It had belonged, no doubt, to that unhappy princess, 
and was probably worn by her at the moment of the 
murder of her favorite, the Italian musician, David 
Rizzio, which happened exactly as it was so vividly 
described by the modern sensitive.^^ 

“ It would require,^^ said Denfield, the closest ex- 
amination and cross-examination of everybody con- 
nected with that transaction before any satisfactory or 
credible conclusion could be drawn. So let us remand 
it to the basket of myths, which is being filled so full 
by the critical researches of the present century.^^ 

^‘I do not agree with you,^^ said Stanford; ^^but 
here is something very recent, perfectly authentic, and 
just as difficult of solution by all your legal acumen. 
A geological specimen was sent to Professor Denton, 
author of ^The Soul of Things,’ for psychometric 
analysis, without a word or a line suggesting to him 
from whom or from whence it came. Holding the 
stone in his hand, he saw a deep railroad cut, and the 
precise excavation from which the specimen had been 
taken. He perceived a tropical region about him, and 
described fields of sugar-cane, banana-trees, little naked 
negroes in the distance, and other particulars. The 


THE PROBABILITIES CONSIDERED. 45 

gentleman who brought the mineral from Cuba, a rail- 
road engineer, confirmed the truth of the professor’s 
statements even to the minutest points.” 

‘^You must confess, Denfield,” said the doctor, 
that Mr. Stanford is making out a pretty good case 
of probability for the success of his undertaking.” 

It will take a good deal of explanation,” said the 
lawyer, for me to master the subject.” 

^‘The rationality of Mr. Stanford’s pursuit,” said 
the doctor, “rests upon the fact that no traces once 
made are ever obliterated ; no impressions, physical or 
spiritual, are ever lost. Dr. Draper, a master in 
natural science, says that upon the walls of our most 
private apartments, where we think the eye of intrusion 
is altogether shut out, there exist vestiges of all our 
acts, silhouettes of everything we have done. I am 
recalling his very words. The impressions given by 
Mr. Browning’s gold studs. Queen Mary’s finger-ring, 
and the geological specimen are natural and probable. 
Every object in nature is the leaf of a book in which 
one may read, under proper conditions, whatever has 
been impressed upon it by surrounding influences from 
the beginning of the world.” 

“You are dealing,” said Denfield, “ with weird and 
mysterious subjects, where the mind is either wrapped 
in darkness or blinded with excess of light, and in 
either case can obtain nothing reliable.” 

“You are mistaken,” said the doctor. “When we 
study the phonograph, we see how the vibrations of air 
can be embedded in a sheet of tin foil, aud, by the turn- 
ing of a crank, can come back to us a thousand years 
afterwards as the original living voice, full of emotion 


46 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


and thought. The vibrations of light, and indeed all 
the vibrations in nature, are susceptible of similar fix- 
ation and similar restoration. Therefore every word 
spoken, every thought conceived, every deed done, is 
fixed and embedded somewhere, so that they can be re- 
called and unrolled to view as vividly as when they 
were first tmnsacted. This is the way of the final 
judgment which no man shall escape.^^ 

Your conceptions almost terrify me,” said Denfield; 
but where are these images of things said, thought, 
and done so permanently stamped and registered ?” 

^^That,” said the doctor, ^^will be the subject of 
future discovery, when we study the laws and phe- 
nomena of mind as zealously and intelligently as we 
are now studying the laws and phenomena of nature. 

I have a friend in this city,” he continued, “ of 
rare psychometric powers and singular spiritual ex- 
periences. He was once sitting by his hearth in a state 
of abstraction. Suddenly he noticed that the bricks 
around the fireplace seemed changed into beautiful little 
porcelain tiles. Then he observed to his amazement 
that each tile contained a picture of some incident in 
his own life. Each picture was a perfect, living repro- 
duction from his memory of scenes just as they actually 
transpired, with every accessory of form, color, sound, 
and movement. One was a duel in which he had been 
engaged. He heard the discharge of the pistols and 
saw his friend fall dead precisely as it occurred on the 
fatal field. Now, something of this kind occurs 
to the genuine clairvoyant, only the pictures are as 
large as life, and he generally mistakes them for reali- 
ties. They are the thoughts and images of the mind 


THE PROBABILITIES CONSIDERED. 47 

projected outward, by a mental law, into apparent 
objectivity, just as occurs in dreams, hallucinations, and 
hypnotic suggestions.’’ 

^^You believe, then,” said Stanford, ^Hhatthis letter 
and lock of hair can bring up to clairvoyant sight 
images and ideas existing in the mind of Gordon 
Clarke and of those immediately with him and fre- 
quently about him previous to his disappearance ?” 

Certainly I do,” said the doctor, always provided 
that certain conditions are obtained. I would like to 
make one suggestion as to the management of your case. 
Trifling and imperfect experiments in this line are of 
little value. At the first stance with the best sensitives 
and clairvoyants you seldom get more than a mere 
repetition or echo of your own thoughts, sometimes 
nothing at all. The visitor then retires in wonder or 
disgust, as the case may be, and the possibilities of the 
clairvoyant power are supposed to be exhausted. 

This is a great mistake. Psychometric and clair- 
voyant powers are susceptible of continuous cultivation. 
If Mr. Browning had repeatedly visited the Italian 
sensitive and presented the same subject for his investi- 
gation, the psychometrist would probably have pene- 
trated more and more deeply into the mysteries of the 
case. He might have seen and described the old uncle, 
even to his eyebrows and vest-buttons ; and he might 
have revealed the minutest incidents of the murder, 
including the name and character of every slave who 
participated in the crime.” 

What would such evidence be worth in a court of 
justice ?” said Denfield, with a smile. 

Ah, my good lawyer,” answered the doctor, gravely, 


48 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


the courts of justice and everything else will be im- 
mensely different in the next century from what they 
are now.” 

You give me great encouragement,” said Stanford 
to the doctor ; the permanence of sensations registered 
in the human brain, the transference of ideas from one 
subject to another, the facts of thought-reading and 
clairvoyance independently of time or space, establish 
my faith in a mission which, as a mere psychological 
experiment, is capable of exciting enthusiastic interest. 

^‘Now,” continued the young architect, ^^can you 
direct me to any superior sensitives in New Orleans, 
people who might recall and read the thoughts and 
memories of Gordon Clarke and of the persons who were 
about him at the time of his strange disappearance ?” 

I have three persons in my mind whom you might 
hopefully consult on the subject.” 

Their names and addresses, if you please,” said 
Stanford, drawing out his tablets. 

And such running comments on their marvellous 
powers,” suggested Denfield, ^^as will encourage our 
friend in the idea that he is not altogether wasting his 
time in the pursuit of such phantasmagoria.” 

“ First,” said the doctor, without noticing Denfield’s 
remark, ‘^put down Madame Caprell, No. 110 Custom- 
House Street.” 

A New-England adventuress,” exclaimed Denfield, 
“ who spends in her charming Massachusetts summer 
home the money she obtains in the winter by practising 
her impositions under a false name in this city.” 

“A psychometrizer,” quietly remarked the doctor, 
of considerable clairvoyant and prescient power.” 


THE PROBABILITIES CONSIDERED. 49 

In the next place,” he continued, “ you might inter- 
view a certain magnetizer or hypnotizer. Dr. Hypolite 
Meissonier, 95 St. Louis Street. I do not suppose that 
he could assist you himself, but he has developed a 
number of choice sensitives, thoroughly trained, from 
whom he has unquestionably obtained some remark- 
able phenomena. Some of these might be of essential 
service to you.” 

have that name already on my tablet,” said Stan- 
ford. The two gentleman looked surprised, but he 
offered no explanation. 

^^Dr. Hypolite Meissonier,” said Denfield, “is a 
gambler and a debauchee, carrying on nefarious prac- 
tices under color of a special form of medical treat- 
ment.” 

“ The comment of my legal friend,” exclaimed the 
doctor, “ requires a little modification. Meissonier is a 
well-educated physician. He studied mesmerism, or 
hypnotism, and the kindred phenomena under Chareot 
at Paris and under Bernheim at Nancy, the greatest 
authorities upon those subjects in the world. He has 
repeated their experiments and verified their conclusions 
here in this little Paris of America. His knowledge 
and his experience are decidedly valuable. 

“ Lastly,” continued the doctor, “ but by no means 
leastly, I advise you to see Cora Morette, 312 Rampart 
Street. This woman is a middle-aged mulattress, quiet, 
modest, unpretentious, one of the best thought-readers 
and clairvoyants I have ever seen.” 

“Yes,” said Denfield, “I have heard wonderful 
things about Cora. She is a grand spiritual figure- 
head among the Creoles. They consult her on business- 
c d 6 


60 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


affairs, love-matters, lost articles, sickness, and every- 
thing. She is actually family physician to many in- 
telligent people.” 

“Mr. Denfield’s running comment on Cora,” said 
the doctor, “ is quite as satisfactory as anything I could 
have done in that line. 

“And now, Mr. Stanford,” coi|binued the doctor, 
rising and taking him by the hand, “ interview those 
people, get all you can from them, and bring me your 
budget of news. I am deeply interested in your sin- 
gular undertaking. The psychological' questions in- 
volved are of immense importance from both social 
and legal stand-points. I shall be exceedingly happy 
if I can be of any service in promoting the success of 
your labors.” 


NINETTE AND ROSE. 


51 


CHAPTER lY. 

NINETTE AND KOSE. 

When Gordon Clarke and his child disappeared in 
the midst of the confusion which the war had produced, 
New Orleans was in a deplorable condition. Military 
occupation and a strict blockade for three years had re- 
duced its population to comparative poverty and de- 
spair. With the downfall of institutions and the wreck 
of public and private fortunes, everything was in ruin. 
The shadow of a great sorrow darkened every house. 
The emblems of mourning were everywhere seen. Of 
twelve thousand Louisianians who served in one army 
alone, the Army of Northern Virginia, only three hun- 
dred surrendered with Lee at Appomattox. All the 
others had been killed or wounded, or had died of 
disease, or had been incapacitated for duty, or made 
prisoners of war. The military government was soon 
succeeded by a political supremacy of negroes, carpet- 
baggers, and scalawags, which was still more galling 
and hateful to the people and more destructive to the 
interests of the city. 

Twenty years after, when Hugh Stanford instituted 
his search for the lost father and child, a wonderful 
change had taken place. The city had sixty thousand 
more inhabitants, a great number of new and beautiful 
residences, new churches and theatres, new pavements 


52 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

and drives, new institutions of all kinds, new railroad 
lines, the great jetties which had given a new impetus 
to commerce, and, above all, a stable and intelligent 
white government which maintained order and admin- 
istered justice. Society in all its phases had recovered 
its ground and renewed its prosperous and brilliant 
career. 

Stanford presented his letters of introduction, and 
was everywhere received with kindness and courtesy. 
The southern veterans had exchanged many civilities 
with the gallant men of the North who had defeated 
them in battle. The asperities of the bloody contest 
had been quite obliterated except in a few irreconcilable 
spirits. Confederates and Federals, forgetting those 
distinctions and respecting each other^s honesty and 
courage, joined hands in social movements and busi- 
ness interests, and mutually assisted every spring in 
decorating the graves of each other’s dead. Stanford 
remained several weeks in New Orleans, moving in its 
best society, and he never heard a word or detected a 
look in man or woman which reminded him unpleas- 
antly that he came from a different section of the 
Union. 

The persons to whom he presented letters introduced 
him to others, and he was soon overwhelmed with hos- 
pitalities. Invitations to dine, to lunch, to teas,” to 
the opera, to visit the old battle-ground, the cemeteries. 
West End, the sugar-plantations, Spanish Fort, all 
poured in upon him in such profusion that he began 
to fear that his time would be wholly absorbed by these 
pleasing recreations. He was, moreover, given the en- 
trie to all the great clubs. He thus met with the crime 


NINETTE AND ROSE. 


63 


de la crtme of New Orleans society, and its fascinations 
were so great that, if he had been a man of less weight 
of character and tenacity of purpose, he might have 
forgotten or neglected the difficult task he had assumed. 

One of the first letters he presented was that ad- 
dressed to Colonel Emile Du Valcourt. The gray- 
haired, ruddy-faced, genial old sugar-merchant, short 
in stature, stout in person, affable in manners, received 
him with that delicate urbanity which is so creditable 
to the host and so pleasing to the guest. The letter 
was from a federal officer who had charge of Du Val- 
court, wounded and a prisoner, for some weeks after 
the battle of Missionary Ridge. This officer had 
treated him so kindly, and even generously, that the 
warm-hearted Southerner remembered him with truly 
fraternal feelings, 

Whoever brings me a letter from Colonel Greene,” 
said he, is received at once into my heart and house. 
You must dine with me to-morrow, which is Sunday, 
and, no matter how long you remain in our city, I 
speak for your company on every Sunday, as that is 
the only day on which I am entirely at leisure.” 

Thus was Hugh Stanford brought face to face with 
Ninette Du Valcourt. He had scarcely ceased to think 
of her a moment from the time he first beheld her, and 
the introduction to her in her own parlors was quite a 
strain upon his emotions. She must have wondered at 
the diffidence, even awkwardness, of a man who was 
evidently accustomed to the best society. His constraint 
was soon dissipated by her singularly bright and en- 
gaging manner. There are some women who uncon- 
sciously fascinate men by a delicate and genial process 
6 * 


54 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


of making them think well of themselves without the 
least appearance of flattery. It is a high art, and 
Ninette Du Valcourt possessed it without art. 

After a few visits Stanford told the object of his 
admiration how he had followed her from Jackson 
Square to her place of residence, wisely concealing the 
extent of the impression she had made upon him. She 
smiled sweetly, a little delicate blush mantled to her 
brow, and she said, — 

Yes, I had been visiting Lethe, my old ^ mammy,' 
as we call the nurses of our infancy. She has a room 
in the third story of one of the Pontalba Buildings. 
She is old and half paralyzed and requires a good deal 
of attention and assistance. The colored people, poor 
things, are generally very improvident and indifferent 
to their aged and helpless. Mammy never was popular 
with them anyhow, for, like many good old mammies, 
she sided with the whites and would not desert us, 
and now she is left almost entirely alone to my care." 

Which I am sure is sufficient," said the gentleman, 
with an unmistakable fervor in his tone, to recom- 
pense her for all her other deprivations." 

Ninette felt instinctively that Stanford was a serious, 
candid man who never passed silly compliments, and 
a deeper blush mounted to her eyes. 

‘^Be not precipitate in your judgment," she said, 
tapping the rosy tips of her fingers with a delicate fan. 

‘‘Judgments may be precipitate," he answered, “be- 
cause they are the work of the understanding ; intui- 
tions never, because they are the secret voices of the 
heart." 

“ Then you believe in first impressions," she said. 


NINETTE AND ROSE. 


55 


The first conclusions of the understanding are often 
erroneous ; the first impressions upon the heart are gen- 
erally lasting ; love at first sight is neither a myth nor a 
dream.” 

His voice was so earnest that his thought had the 
flavor of a personal experience. The lady blushed 
and tapped her rosy fingers again, while she answered, 
agree with you” so softly, that the words seemed 
almost wafted upon a sigh. 

Thus they sported carelessly, unintentionally, on 
that sweet border-land of sentiment which is danger- 
ously near to the confines of love. 

Du Yalcourt’s hospitality was proverbial. He en- 
tertained in the old princely French style. His table 
was richly provided, tastefully decorated, and hand- 
somely served. The tall and elegant mulatto head- 
servant, known as Brown in the family, and as Mr. 
Brown outside of it, was a master of observances ; and 
the guest who forgot his etiquette or mismanaged his 
napkin or his finger-bowl excited Mr. Brown’s com- 
miseration, and was classed at once with the man who 
was found at the feast without the wedding garment. 

Two other ladies contributed with Ninette to adorn 
the Du Yalcourt parlors and table. Madame Du Yal- 
court was the colonel’s second wife, having succeeded 
the charming woman who had reared Ninette, just one 
year before. She had been beautiful in her youth, and 
was still very good-looking at forty-five. Like so 
many Creole and Jewish ladies, she was growing 
fleshier with advancing years, without losing any of 
her attractions except her once graceful figure. She 
had little to say, but was always amiable and smiling, 


66 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


the smile being admirably managed so as to display a 
set of beautiful teeth. 

The other lady was Madame Du Valcourt’s daughter 
by a first husband. Rose Villemaine was a young 
woman of striking and intelligent appearance. She 
had very large and expressive black eyes, black eye- 
brows, and a quantity of black hair. She had a 
brunette’s complexion, not of that delicate golden 
tint underneath which the blood surges up in roseate 
flashes, but dull and sallow. Her exquisite style of 
dressing diverted attention from her physical defects, 
and she passed for a handsome woman. Her manner 
was bright and sparkling, but dignified and sugges- 
tive of an immense latent force of passion and temper 
behind it. 

Tastefully and modestly attired, with a simple coif- 
fure a la Grecque, graceful in her slightest movements, 
with a face as full of tenderness as of beauty, Ninette 
Du Valcourt was a vision of loveliness, which made a 
charming impression upon all hearts, and electrotyped 
the one already made upon the susceptible spirit of 
the young Northerner. One of her principal charms 
was that she seemed unconscious of her power to 
charm. It was singular that a woman over twenty 
years of age, and who must have excited a vast deal 
of admiration which could not have been voiceless, 
should have remained so self-depreciative, and so in- 
credulous of her power to inspire others. 

A frequent and honored guest in the Du Yalcourt 
and other distinguished families, Stanford met with the 
fairest and best specimens of Creole society. He soon 
came to the conclusion that the women were in many 


NINETTE AND ROSE. 


57 


respects superior to the men, a relative condition which 
is fast becoming prominent in other communities be- 
sides that of New Orleans. He observed, however, 
that, unlike the women of his own magnificent city, 
they seemed deficient in originality and independence 
of spirit. There was wit, vivacity, grace, piety, in- 
telligence, and exquisite politeness, — all the pleasing 
charms of the old aristocratic French regime; but if you 
started any of the great new issues of the day, any of 
the vast, social problems which are demanding thought- 
ful solution, they shrank from any expression of opinion. 
Novelty startled and silenced them. Conventionality 
was the supreme authority. Even the school-girls were 
so thoroughly trained to obey that they never initiated 
anything, but followed some distinguished lead. 

This criticism, however, is not of universal applica- 
tion. The emancipation of woman is silently progress- 
ing even where it seems to make but little progress. 
There are, no doubt, George Eliots and Margaret 
Fullers and Harriet Martineaus among our Creole 
population, just as there were Miltons and Cromwells 
and Hampdens in the old church-yard of Gray^a 
Elegy ; gems of purest ray serene, buried as yet in the 
dark, unfathomed caves of conservatism. 

Stanford soon noticed with surprise and admiration 
what every acute observer is obliged to see, the singular, 
ethereal expression of meekness, purity, and tender- 
ness which shines in the faces of Creole women with 
greater or less distinctness and power according to 
the varying degrees of education and culture. It is 
not always or even generally a reliable index of char- 
acter, but a type of facial expression so frequently met 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


68 

with must have some common cause. What is the 
meaning of it ? 

After prolonged observation and reflection on the 
subject Stanford came to this conclusion. It is the 
result of the Catholic faith and methods ; of the early 
adoration of the Holy Mother and Child, and the 
frequent and earnest contemplation of saintly faces 
and pictures, while their devotions are intensified by 
the grand, artistic music of the Universal Church. 
Add to this heredity and prenatal influences, the 
mothers so reared transmitting the ineffaceable type to 
their children. 

One naturally asks, is there no sly puss, or crafty 
fox, or cruel panther, or pretentious owl, or chattering 
magpie underneath all these delicate and placid ap- 
pearances? It seems impossible, but only those who 
have tested the matter by intermarriage have any right 
to answer the question. 

Our critical visitor to New Orleans, having read 
Mr. Cable’s delightful novels, was soon struck with 
the fact that in the circle of Creole society in which 
he was moving there was little or nothing of that 
peculiar, imperfect pronunciation of the English lan- 
guage which constitutes one of the entertainments of 
that author’s productions. The Creoles he met in private 
and at the clubs spoke English so perfectly and fluently 
that only the most attentive and cultivated ear could de- 
tect any deviation from the standard. The differences 
of accentuation and intonation were so delicate, mere 
nuanceSy that they never could be transferred to paper, 
or represented by any possible species of bad spelling. 

Before he left New Orleans Stanford enjoyed the 


NINETTE AND ROSE. 


59 


great treat of hearing a lecture by the learned and 
eloquent historian of Louisiana, Charles Gayarr6. 
When you listen to the brilliant sentences of that 
distinguished gentleman, you know that a Frenchman 
is speaking, but you feel also that he is a scholar who 
makes no mistakes, and has reached the highest point 
of English culture. Therefore the educated Creoles 
in this story will speak English like the educated 
Americans of the same class. 

Love has acute perceptions, and Stanford soon dis- 
covered differences between Ninette Du Valcourt and 
her companions. She had not been goldened by the 
southern sun, nor were her features of the delicate 
French type. She did not exhibit that ethereal meek- 
ness and gentleness which he thought was character- 
istic of the Catholic devotee. She was exceedingly 
bright and genial, modest and unobtrusive, but she 
was evidently self-poised, original, and independent. 
Her conversation sometimes betrayed a puritan sturdi- 
ness of thought, ready to question the authority of 
Authority, which delighted the advanced thinker, who 
weighed every word she uttered with a kindly but 
critical spirit. 

Stanford had not paid many visits to this interesting 
family before he discovered, not exactly a skeleton in 
the house, but a certain atmosphere of disharmony 
and variance existing between the two young ladies. 
Colonel Du Yalcourt’s first wife had been dead four 
years, and he had been married but one year to the 
second choice, who brought her stately, black-eyed 
daughter, fresh from the convent schools, to play the 
rdU of sister to Ninette. The latter, after her mother^s 


60 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

death, had been sent at her own request to finish her 
education at a celebrated female seminary near Boston. 
The old gentleman had at first demurred strenuously 
to her proposition, and insisted that Paris had far 
better finishing schools for a Louisiana belle than any 
other place in the world. But Ninette, who had read 
much outside of the curriculum, and who felt the 
special needs and aspirations of her own spirit, pleaded 
so earnestly for the literary and social influences of 
New England upon her early life, that the old colonel 
kissed her, called her his little Yankee, and acceded to 
her wishes. 

Thus educated and bred apart, with different sur- 
roundings, organically unlike in constitution and tem- 
perament, unequally gifted both mentally and physi- 
cally, and both past the age of gushing confidences and 
eternal friendships, it was not to be expected that the 
story of Damon and Pythias would find a feminine coun- 
terpart in the experiences of these young ladies. It soon 
became apparent, on the contrary, that they differed radi- 
cally in their tastes, their opinions, and their aspirations. 

Ninette,” said Bose Yillemaine to Stanford one 
day when they happened to be alone for a few minutes, 
— Ninette is a very singular girl, not constituted for 
a quiet and happy life. That Boston education was of 
incalculable injury to her. It unsettled her opinions, 
excited her ambitions, and separated her by an immense 
gulf from the Creole life we are leading. We are 
always in fear that she will say or do something in- 
discreet or unsuitable.” 

Stanford had formed an entirely different estimate 
of Miss Du Yalcourt. Bose’s opinion of her did not 


NINETTE AND ROSE. 


61 


make the least impression upon him. But he was a 
good judge of human nature, and there was something 
in her voice, manner, and expression of countenance 
which flashed a revelation upon him as to her own 
character and the true causes of her sentiments. It 
came to him in two words, — envy ! jealousy ! They 
were keys to some little curious and almost unpleasant 
things which he had noticed but which he had not 
comprehended. 

If any doubt lingered in his mind, it was dissipated 
by a little incident which took place soon after. He 
came to the house one evening earlier than usual. The 
servant had the lighter in her hand when she heard the 
bell ring, and she opened the door for him. She paused 
to mount a chair and light the gas before she ushered 
him into the parlor. In that short space of time, as 
he stood near the portiere, his acute hearing caught 
these words of Miss Yillemaine’s elevated voice. 

‘^I donT believe she^s a Du Yalcourt anyhow. 
She^s nothing like any of their portraits. And if she 
were, what audacity to monopolize the attentions of 
our visitors 

Hush hissed the mother, as the servant held one 
of the curtains aside and Hugh Stanford entered. Both 
ladies were confused at first, but quickly concluded that 
he had heard nothing, from the perfect naturalness of 
his salutation and of his subsequent manner. 

Why are the Italians, Spaniards, and other southern 
nations, predominantly black-eyed, more jealous in love 
than the northern races, who are predominantly blue- 
eyed ? The blue-eyed woman says, Love me, or I die 
The black-eyed woman says, “ Love me, or I kill you I” 
6 


62 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


CHAPTER Y. 

ON THE TEAIL. 

When Hugh Stanford left his hotel to visit the 
three persons indicated by Dr. Holden, he illustrated 
the vein of mysticism which runs like a golden thread 
through the mind of every educated man who is also 
possessed of imagination. The ignorant and stupid 
are never mystics : they are merely superstitious. The 
cultivated know that the human mind is perpetually 
expanding by the solution of mysteries, and that beyond 
the present bounds of our knowledge there are number- 
less arcana awaiting scientific solution. Stanford felt 
conscious that his own common sense, his practical 
education, and his knowledge of spiritual phenomena 
would preserve him from any illusions which charlatans 
might endeavor to impose upon him. 

He sat in Madame CaprelFs anteroom a good while 
waiting his turn among a queer set of people. He be- 
gan to feel quite ashamed of his position. A gentle- 
man among servant-girls, laboring men, and veiled old 
women, seeking restored lovers, lucky numbers in the 
lottery, and gilded fortunes in general, he felt decidedly 
out of place. He was relieved when the red curtain 
that hung in the door-way between the two i*ooms was 
turned aside, and a delicate little woman smiling through 


ON THE TRAIL. 


63 


her tears tripped by him, while a strong female voice 
from within called out : 

“ Mr. Hugh Stanford !’’ 

An uninitiated person might have exclaimed, ^^How 
in the world did she know my name but Stanford 
was too well acquainted with mind-reading and with 
Charlie Foster’s method of astounding his visitors to 
betray the least surprise. The Nathaniels of the present 
day are not at all astonished when some remote clair- 
voyant sees them under the fig-tree. 

He now found himself in the presence of a portly, 
middle-aged, square-faced woman with very white hands 
and forehead, and exceedingly black eyes, eyebrows, 
and hair. The room was handsomely carpeted, and 
furnished with plush chairs and gilded mirrors. A 
marble statue about four feet high stood in one comer 
with the name Paracelsus chiselled upon the pedestal. 
On the wall hung a large painting of Cleopatra, semi- 
nude, applying the venomous asp to her breast. A round 
table occupied the centre of the room, on which were 
writing materials, an immense crystal sphere, and a 
pack of cards. Over it swung, by a gilded chain at- 
tached to the ceiling, the bronze statuette of a flying 
angel. The possessor of these pleasing environments 
was sedate but agreeable in manner. Her general ap- 
pearance, • although somewhat pretentious, was really 
imposing and intelligent. 

‘^Give me your relics and I will tell you what I see,” 
she exclaimed, reaching forth her hand, seeming to 
divine by intuition the object of his visit. The scep- 
tical would have called it guess-work. Believers would 
have accepted it as proof of spiritual insight and super- 


64 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


natural power. Stanford knew it was only thought^ 
reading, not half so strange or difficult as many of 
Bishop^s performances. 

She took Gordon Clarke’s letter and his child’s lock 
of hair into her hands, and held them in silence awhile. 
A slight shudder then seemed to run through her frame. 
At last she said, — 

He who wrote this letter is dead, long dead. It 
strikes me somehow or other that his death was sudden 
and violent. There is a dense atmosphere of sadness 
about these relics, sadness and mystery. The child 
from whom this lock of hair was taken is living and 
has grown into a superb young woman. I see her as 
one pictures the full-grown flower from the bud ; but 
I cannot find her surroundings. I reach out after her 
through a difficult and intricate way, but I cannot dis- 
cover her whereabouts. The strain upon me, the ten- 
sion of mind, is so great that it has given me a terrible 
pain in my eyeballs. Let me rest a moment.” 

Can you see the figure of the man who wrote this 
letter ?” said Stanford, after a few minutes. 

Yes,” she said, after a brief silence ; he is slowly 
materializing before my sight. He is a large, elderly 
man, with white hair and beetling brows. His name 
is Clay? — Claw? — no ! — Clarke ! His name is Clarke. 
Is it not ?” 

Stanford had never seen Gordon Clarke, and he was 
thinking that moment of Mr. Ephraim Clarke and 
wondering if the lost brother resembled him. He now 
felt certain that Madame Caprell saw nothing but the 
image in his own mind. To test whether she also 
echoed his thoughts, he said, — 


ON THE TRAIL. 05 

“What became of the man who wrote this let- 
ter ?'' 

“ He was unquestionably murdered.” 

“ Who was the murderer ?” 

“A young physician who travelled with Clarke, and 
whose beautiful wife was an accomplice.” 

“ Can you describe those persons, tell me the inci- 
dents of the murder, and show me where the criminals 
now are ?” 

After some little hesitation and even confusion of 
manner, she exclaimed, — 

“ You require impossibilities, sir ! at least without 
further data and materials to work with.” 

Stanford declared himself satisfied, paid her fee of 
three dollars and retired, feeling that the interview had 
been entirely valueless. 

It is said that the blind are made aware of approach- 
ing a wall or fence by delicate variations or undulations 
in the atmosphere, of which those who have vision are 
always unconscious. It is because their infirmity has 
compelled them to cultivate to an extraordinary degree 
the senses of hearing and touch. Thus Madame Ca- 
prelFs occupation, turning her perpetually from external 
to interior things, had so sharpened her spiritual percep- 
tions that she felt the antagonism of Stanford’s mind 
pressing against hers like a delicate wave of air, knew 
his opinions of her and of the science, saw the causes 
of his dissatisfaction, and even perceived that he had a 
deeper insight and a profounder solution of the phe- 
nomena than her own. 

Nettled by her consciousness of failure and desiring 
apparently to secure something of his confidence, she 
€ 6 * 


66 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


suddenly called out to her departing visitor, in an 
earnest tone, — 

There are two dangers ahead of you, sir. One of 
them you will bring upon yourself, the other will be 
imposed upon you by enemies. Keep on your guard.’^ 

I am studying the past,” he answered, not the 
future.” 

They are the seed and the fruit of the same tree,” 
said the woman, with solemnity ; and whoever knows 
the one may know the other also.” 

Stanford’s ring at Dr. Meissonier’s door was answered 
by a pert mulatto girl about fifteen, who said that she 
believed the doctor was in the back office, pointing to 
the entrance into that room. Stanford went in, and 
found a very singular-looking young gentleman seated 
at a large round table, apparently engaged in studying 
an anatomical atlas. He had long black hair parted in 
the middle and curling about his neck and shoulders. 
His very handsome countenance was defaced by an ugly 
red scar running down the middle of his forehead, the 
result of a sword-cut received in a duel. He had large, 
expressive black eyes full of a certain tender melanr 
choly. His features were of the feminine cast, and but 
for his clothing and his delicate moustache, he might 
have passed for a woman. 

Stanford saluted him courteously, but received no 
reply. He raised his voice but made no impression. 
The young gentleman must be deaf. Presently he 
raised his eyes and seemed to look naturally about the 
room. Clearly, however, he did not see the visitor 
standing before him. Is he also blind? Then how 
can he read the atlas ? Stanford moved forward and 


ON THE TRAIL. 


67 


passed his hand between his face and the page. The 
young man reached out and touched Stanford’s sleeve. 
He started and exclaimed in a tender voice, — 

Is it you, Lucia ?” 

Here the pert servant-girl, who had been looking in 
at the door, suddenly called out, — 

‘^Well, I’ll declare! if the doctor hasn’t gone out 
and left Mr. Hilary hypnosed !” 

‘^Why does he impose this condition upon him,” 
inquired Stanford. 

“ Don’t know,” was the answer, unless,” she added, 
with an astonishing wink at the speaker, it’s to keep 
him from seeing and hearing his pretty wife when she 
comes in.” 

Stanford felt that it was time to leave the premises. 

A badly-regulated household,” he muttered to himself, 
as he passed out into the street. 

Cora Morette lived in a wooden two-story house on 
Rampart Street near Esplanade. A high, solid white 
fence, with a little green door in it, almost concealed 
the dwelling from view. A pavement of exceedingly 
red brick, bordered by tasteful little flower-beds, led 
to the humble door. Everything about the place was 
scrupulously clean. A small anteroom was full of 
people, each seeking a special solution of his mystery. 
In a rear chamber sat Cora Morette in a rocking-chair, 
plainly but neatly dressed, a quiet, soft-spoken, middle- 
aged mulattress. She was a good-looking woman, but 
time, or care, or bad health had planted many wrinkles 
upon her benevolent face. How different was this silent, 
modest little seeress from the imposing and pretentious 
New-England adventuress. 


68 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


A handsome, smooth-faced, intelligent-looking young 
Creole, said to be a druggist, sat by a table near to 
Cora, and recorded her prescriptions, explained them to 
the patients, took in the fees, and acted as business 
manager generally. The clairvoyant could neither read 
nor write, having been a slave the first half of her life. 
In her waking state she had no knowledge or recollec- 
tion of the wonderful things she uttered in her trance 
condition. 

Cora was about beginning her office-work when 
Stanford entered. Impressed by his distinguished ap- 
pearance, the young clerk ignored the inferior person- 
ages present, and, closing the folding-doors between the 
two rooms, requested the gentleman to state his business. 
This was done in a brief but clear and impressive 
manner. The manager listened with polite interest, 
and then said, with a glance of intelligent compre- 
hension, — 

I am glad you came so early. This kind of case 
could never be fathomed in the ordinary mediatorial 
condition in which Mrs. Morette prescribes for the sick 
or advises on business matters. It belongs to the higher 
phenomena, and can only be penetrated in the state of 
profound hypnotism. She is in good condition this 
morning, her mental state is exceedingly quiet, and I 
have no doubt she will obtain strong and clear impres- 
sions.” 

Stanford was favorably struck by these words and by 
Cora Morette’s appearance. There is no humbug or 
fraud about this woman,” he said to himself, and this 
man does not talk like a showman exhibiting his treas- 
ures, but like a man of science whose words are weighted 


ON THE TRAIL. 


69 


with thought.” He felt a thrill of pleasurable excite- 
ment pass through his fi’ame as he contemplated the pos- 
sibility, indeed the likelihood, of soon receiving the first 
genuine clue towards the elucidation of his mystery. 

While the clerk was speaking Cora had fixed her 
pensive, black eyes upon Stanford’s face with a little 
exhibition of curiosity, but lowered them timidly to 
her own hands in her lap when he turned upon her an 
inquisitive glance. 

The operator then proceeded to make the mesmeric 
passes, and throw the subject into that deep and strange 
sleep of the senses in which the body is indifferent to 
all external stimuli, and the soul descends from her 
secret abodes, sees and hears through all obstacles, pene- 
trates to all times and spaces, and confounds all our 
previous conceptions of mind and matter. 

When the interior condition was fully established, 
Cora drew a deep sigh and exclaimed, — 

What do you want with me ?” 

Gordon Clarke’s letter and the child’s lock of hair 
were then placed in her hands. She sat for at least 
five minutes with gathered brow, passing one hand 
softly over the letter as if it were a piece of velvet. 
Stanford began to fear that he would receive no com- 
munication, and even the young clerk grew restless. 
Suddenly Cora Morette’s countenance brightened up 
surprisingly, and she spoke with a cultivated voice and 
manner which she did not manifest in her waking 
state. 

I am in a large room handsomely furnished. The 
windows look out upon a street so narrow that I can 
almost hear the people talking in the houses opposite. 


70 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


In the middle of the room a gentleman is writing at a 
table. He is a handsome young man with gray eyes, 
dark-brown hair and moustache. He has a quiet half- 
smile upon his face as he writes. A little girl about 
two years old is standing on a chair and looking out 
of a window at the passers-by. She is very pretty, 
and very genteel and docile.^^ 

Cora Morette was silent. Stanford said, — 

^^Do these people have no friends about them, no 
visitors, no persons who come frequently to their 
room ?’' 

After a considerable pause the seeress answered, — 

I see a man and a woman. The man is young, 
tall, with black hair, moustache, and imperial, Koman 
nose, and is very stylish and impressive. The most 
notable thing about him is the size of his hands, out 
of proportion, I would say, to his face. Very, very 
affable externally to the gentleman at the table, he 
bears about him a singular sphere of silence and con- 
cealment which I do not comprehend. The woman 
stands sideways to me in shadow. She is a beautiful 
brunette, very young and very engaging, but there is 
the same curious atmosphere of silence and conceal- 
ment about her. I do not like those people.’’ 

A thought suddenly occurred to Stanford, and he 
said, — 

Can you describe the room to me so that I would 
recognize it if I saw it ?” 

It has a little piano or melodeon in one corner.” 

I do not mean the furniture : that is movable. 
Tell me some permanent feature about it.” 

Cora looked all around her and up to the ceiling. 


ON THE TRAIL. 


71 


She seemed apparently to be surveying her own room, 
but her spiritual eye was looking through Gordon 
Clarke's mind into one of the chambers of the old 
Hotel des Strangers as it was twenty years before. 

“ The walls are painted in panels of a light green 
bordered with delicate vines and flowers. The ceiling 
is frescoed, and it has two large portraits on it. Every- 
body knows those faces, — they are George Washington 
and General Andrew Jackson.” 

Cora Morette now seemed to fall into a deep sleep, 
her face settled into a fixed frown, and she breathed 
heavily. The young clerk felt her pulse, and declared 
it was necessaiy to terminate the stance. He requested 
Stanford to call again in a day or two, and proceeded 
to make the upward mesmeric passes which deliver the 
suspended senses from their enchantment. 

Stanford repaired at once to the old hotel on Char- 
tres Street. Entering the office, he inquired of a dapper 
little clerk, who had a pen behind his ear, an immense 
gold pin in his shirt-bosom, and a cigarette in his mouth, 
if there was a room in the hotel fronting the street with 
walls painted in a pale green and the portraits of Wash- 
ington and Jackson on the ceiling. 

Certainly not, sir,” the clerk exclaimed, emphati- 
cally ; there is no such room in this building.” 

‘‘But, Alphonse, there used to be exactly such a 
room in this building,” said an old lady near the 
window, looking up from her crochet-work and re- 
garding the stranger inquisitively. 

“When was all that?” inquired Alphonse, snap- 
pishly. 

“ A long time ago, when you were playing marbles 


72 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


and flying kites, sir. About fifteen years ago a fire 
occurred in the room, which so disfigured it that all 
the old work was erased, and the walls and ceiling were 
calcimined as you see them now.’’ 

Stanford bowed and retired, the couple staring after 
him in wonder at his question and at the great pleasure 
the answer seemed to give him. 

For he was saying or thinking to himself something 
like this. I never saw that room, nor did Ephraim 
Clarke, nor any one whom I know. Cora Morette did 
not get the ideal picture from my mind, but from 
Gordon Clarke’s mind. She is a real clairvoyant. 
She is truthful and trustworthy. What she describes 
once actually existed. Her vision of the man and the 
woman is doubtless as correct as her vision of the 
room. How to find this worthy couple is the problem. 
How to break their silence and drag them from their 
concealment. It is not impossible, it is even probable. 
I am on the trail.” 

Dr. Hypolite Meissonier’s front office was ostenta- 
tiously provided with electrical and magnetic machines, 
surgical instruments and apparatus, preserved speci- 
mens of the standard hideousness, and colored anatomi- 
cal maps quite as disgusting. At a small table the 
handsome young gentleman with his black hair parted 
in the middle, whom Stanford had seen the day before 
in a semi-hypnotic condition, was giving a nasal douche 
of electrized water to a young woman in a scarlet-red 
dress. He looked up from his work, but did not seem 
to recognize the visitor, and pointed him politely to 
the back office, where the doctor was seated at a large 
table full of books, bottles, magazines, and papers. 


ON THE TRAIL. 


73 


The high-priest of this magnetic sanctuary was a 
tall man with iron-gray hair, keen, restless black eyes, 
a large nose, a very sallow face prematurely wrinkled, 
and a dissatisfied, petulant expression of countenance. 
A black dressing-gown bordered with red, a round 
black velvet cap with a red tassel, and a gold eye-glass 
gave him quite an imposing professional aspect. Still, 
there was something curious and uncanny about the 
place and the man which made Stanford compare himself 
to a fly entering the silvery web of a large black spider. 

The doctor pointed silently to a chair, but his cross 
looks said almost as plainly as words, — 

Well, sir, why do you trouble me?” 

I have been referred to you, sir,” said Stanford, in 
quite a deferential manner, as an adept in hypnotism 
or mesmerism.” 

Hypnotism,” said the doctor, in a somewhat pom- 
pous tone, is nothing but mesmerism, stripped of its 
charlatanic rags, baptized with a new name and adopted 
into the family of legitimate sciences.” 

‘‘ It seems to have come to the front of late years 
as a powerful agent for advancing our hitherto rather 
scanty positive knowledge of the human mind.” 

It is the starting-point, sir,” exclaimed the doctor, 
with the exaggerating enthusiasm of the specialist, 
of a new psychology, a new physiology, a new medi- 
cine. I can almost affirm that it will initiate a uni- 
versal revolution in human afiairs.” 

Do you not think,” said Stanford, that the effects 
of this mesmeric power have been overstated ?” 

Understated,” said the doctor, positively. I have 
repeated, sir, on my own patients almost every experi- 


74 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


ment made in this line from Mesmer to Charcot. Those 
who have been once hypnotized by me remain under 
my control. That young man in the front room, Dr, 
Hilary Dupont, is a mere automaton in mf hands. By 
hypnotic suggestions imposed in his negative state I 
could make him do any ridiculous or dangerous action 
I pleased to order. I could make him lie, steal, fight, 
murder. I could commit all the crimes by proxy and 
remain myself concealed.” 

Is not this a fearful power for one man to possess 
over his fellow-men ?” 

Why, sir,” continued the doctor, excitedly, I can 
change or impose opinions; I can obliterate animosities; 
I can sow dissensions ; I can excite antipathies ; I can 
arouse alfections ; I can create and cure diseases ; I can 
make men invisible to each other ; I can compel wit- 
nesses to see and swear to things which have never 
happened; I can overpower the judge on the bench, and 
while he seems to be acting spontaneously, he will 
make the decisions I dictate. As easily as you clean a 
slate with a sponge, so easily can I erase the virtue of 
woman and the honor of man from the tablet of the 
heart. And all this, sir, by hypnotic suggestion. Do 
you believe these things ?” 

However strange and terrible they are,” said Stan- 
ford, I have read enough of Braid, Charcot, Binet, 
Bernheim, and others to know that, under certain im- 
probable combinations of circumstances, they are at 
least possibilities. The fact that under any circum- 
stances whatever such things are possible, should cause 
the severest restrictions of the law to be imposed upon 
this magnetizing work.” 


ON THE TRAIL. 


75 


And as ever before,” said the doctor, with an ugly 
sneer, the big fish would break through the meshes 
and only the little ones be caught in the net of the law.” 

There was something disagreeably jubilant in the air 
of the magnetizer as he uttered these words, which made 
Stanford suspect that Dr. Hy polite Meissonier enjoyed 
his vast powers, present and prospective, so much, that 
he would not like to have his occupation supervised by 
the law. 

We have spoken,” he said, ^^only of the evil side 
of hypnotism. It certainly possesses also great power 
for good. It has given ns new and startling concep- 
tions of the spiritual side of life. It has already cured 
diseases, corrected bad habits, removed false opinions, 
cemented friendships, and done other good things. Do 
you not believe it will enable us to penetrate the mys- 
teries of the past and in a limited manner to anticipate 
the future?” 

Unquestionably,” said the doctor; ^^but the mere 
hypnotic can do nothing of the sort. It requires that 
great and rare gift of nature, the clairvoyant faculty. 
Almost all men and women can be hypnotized and 
made the subjects and victims of suggestions. Only 
the clairvoyants can see the past and the future. Such 
a person hypnotized by an intelligent operator is capa- 
ble of the most amazing revelations. And right here 
I have made a wonderful discovery. If the magnetizer, 
afi^er bringing a good clairvoyant into the ordinary 
hypnotic state, will then proceed by persistent mesmeric 
processes to throw the subject into a still profounder 
sleep, he will evoke phenomena of the most extraor- 
dinary nature.” 


76 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

^^Have you any subjects of that kind now under 
your control 

^^None who are capable of any very surprising 
tilings/^ 

Do you know any clairvoyant in the city who is 
likely to be useful in a problem exceedingly difficult 
of solution?^’ 

Cora Morette on Rampart Street is the best clair- 
voyant I have seen in this city, better even than any 
I ever saw in Paris.” 

There was silence for about a minute. Meissonier 
suddenly said, — 

‘^Have you any objection, sir, to telling me the 
nature of the problem you are seeking to solve ?” 

Stanford brought out the letter of Gordon Clarke 
and his child^s lock of hair and laid them upon the 
table before him. The doctor eyed the articles curi- 
ously, but did not offer to touch them. 

This letter,” said Stanford, gravely, was written 
by a man who suddenly disappeared in New Orleans 
twenty years ago, and this little lock of hair was from 
the head of his daughter two years old who disappeared 
with him.” 

He was looking down at the relics as he spoke, and 
did not notice a singular and sudden change on the 
doctor^s countenance. That gentleman took up a book 
and turned the leaves as if looking for something, 
saying slowly and with a tone intended to be in- 
different, — 

What was the name of that man ?” 

Gordon Clarke, and the child’s name was Mary 
Gilford Clarke.” 


ON THE TRAIL, 


77 


Meissonier’s eyes evaded Stanford’s. Beaching out 
his hand, he said, in quite a subdued voice, — 

Will you permit me to examine those articles ?” 

As he reached to take them, Stanford started a little 
and said to himself, — 

'^What a large hand ! out of proportion to the face.” 

Meissonier, quite unnecessarily, moved to a window 
and silently read the letter with his face turned away 
from Stanford. 

The latter was thinking to himself, — 

“A large hand indeed ! How many men have large 
hands ! What an absurd thing on which to base a 
suspicion !” 

At length the doctor turned slowly round and said, 
quietly,— 

I would like to submit these relics to one of my 
best-developed subjects.” 

I cannot let them go out of my hand,” said Stan- 
ford, reaching for them ; but find your person and 
name your time and place, and we will study the mys- 
tery together.” 

The doctor was evidently disconcerted, and gave back 
the articles with reluctance. 

And now,” he said, in a louder tone, looking a% 
his watch, my time is up. Business takes me out. 
Do me the honor of calling again, sir.” 

Stanford felt that he was hastily dismissed, but 
thanked the doctor for the interview accorded him, and 
passed out of the room. 

When Meissonier had shut his door, he pressed both 
hands to his temples and gave a long, low whistle, a 
peculiar human sound, in which astonishment, curiosity, 
4 * 


78 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


and apprehension were strangely mingled. He then 
called out to the pert young mulatto girl who attended 
to his door, — 

^^£lise, did you note that gentleman who just passed 
into the street ?” 

Yes, sir; he was here yesterday.’^ 

Let him never come in again. Do you hear me ? 
Whenever he calls, I am not at home.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

And the worthy magnetizer sat at his table for a 
good while with his head between his two hands. 

What was Dr. Hypolite Meissonier thinking about? 


ROSE DISCOVERS DYNAMITE. 


79 


CHAPTEE VI. 

ROSE DISCOVERS DYNAMITE. 

If Hugh Stanford ever had an idea of making love 
to Ninette Du Valcourt in the most approved American 
fashion, he found an insuperable obstacle in the customs 
of Creole society. The unmarried daughters of that 
estimable class are supervised and chaperoned with a 
strictness entirely unknown to the rest of the people 
of the United States. The Creole girl obtains com- 
parative liberty only by marriage, after the ancient 
manner of la belle France. The American girl, free 
until marriage, surrenders her liberty on accepting the 
marriage ring. 

The handsome and talented young architect from 
Chicago, full of tender sentiments pining to be em- 
bodied in complimentary phrases, could seldom see the 
object of his admiration alone, and then only for a 
few minutes. In the parlor it was toujours mamma, 
or toujours papa, or toujours sister Eose, with her 
great, watchful black eyes. They were not permitted 
to go unattended to the theatre or opera, or to the 
public squares, or even to church. It was an espio- 
nage like that of the old Jesuits, who never permitted 
two members of their society to remain together with- 
out the presence of a third, to act as a spy upon their 
conversation and conduct. 


80 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


How two young people ever do make comprehen- 
sible love to each other under such limitations is a 
mystery to all but the very numerous couples who 
have tried and succeeded in the experiment. There 
must be a special sensibility in true lovers to the 
slightest changes in the pressure of the hands, or in 
the minutest expressions of the eye, or in the faintest 
intonations of the voice, which reveal their secret 
thoughts and feelings in a manner intelligible only 
to themselves. 

Certain it is, that in less than three weeks Hugh 
Stanford acknowledged to himself that he was deeply 
in love with Ninette Du Valcourt. That charming 
young lady knew it as well as he did, although he had 
not spoken a word on the subject, for his conduct had 
been a silent proposal. She thought of her own feel- 
ings towards her suitor with involuntary blushes, and 
would not have breathed her delicious secret to another 
person for all the world. And yet Hugh Stanford, by 
some secret and magical rapport, felt himself quite 
secure in her affections. 

While these young lovers were sporting about each 
other like two doves in that golden atmosphere which 
imagination weaves at least once for us all. Fatality 
sat silent at her loom, secretly weaving a dark, dark 
thread into the web of their lives. 

Miss Kose Villemaine was thoroughly dissatisfied 
with the situation. Of an envious and jealous dis- 
position, she was not a favorite with either sex. A 
woman who is not lovable to her female companions 
will rarely prove permanently attractive to the best 
class of men. This young lady had pressed forward 


HOSE DISCOVERS DYNAMITE. 


81 


very early into that fascinating arena where women 
contend with each other for the favor and the conquest 
of men. As several years of endeavor had passed 
with little result, she began to be soured in temper 
and anxious in mind. This unhappy condition was 
manifested by a disagreeable fretfulness at home and 
a cynical turn of thought in society. 

Her mother’s marriage to Colonel Du Valcourt had 
brought with it great expectations. She was introduced 
thereby into a new and somewhat larger field of social 
advantages and opportunities. The lustre of the Du 
Valcourt name added to the prestige of her own, 
assured her of brilliant success, and she saw some 
grand alliance looming up in the near future, when 
the return home of Ninette Du Valcourt from the 
Boston seminary cast a shadow over her bright hopes, 
and shot to her aching heart the anticipation of a 
thwarted destiny. She disliked the daughter of the 
house from the moment she lifted her eyes upon her. 

Evidently more beautiful than herself, more accom- 
plished, more attractive, this new debutante, by the 
mere force of natural superiority, without any effort 
on her part, took the precedence on all occasions. The 
least attentive observer could discern that everywhere 
and by everybody Ninette Du Valcourt was more ad- 
mired and more beloved than Rose Villemaine. 

Ninette was disconcerted and pained by these prefer- 
ences. She felt herself unworthy of the attentions 
showered upon her, and was grieved at the comparative 
neglect with which Rose was treated. She endeavored, 
in the most generous and delicate manner, to bring her 
step-sister to the front at every opportunity. Her 
/ 


82 A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

kindly efforts were misconstrued. Rose quietly but 
emphatically repulsed her advances. Her very tender- 
ness towards her seemed to irritate the black-eyed, 
black-browed young woman, for it showed that Ninette 
*was aware of circumstances which excited her com- 
passion, and her compassion was proudly resented. 

The gulf between the two young ladies of the house- 
hold was greatly widened by the advent of Mr. Hugh 
Stanford. His preferences for Ninette were soon so 
positive and conspicuous that no one thought of Rose 
as a competitor for his affections. The mother, who 
was instinctively aware of the jealousy which was 
gnawing at Rosens heart, one day congratulated her 
that Mr. Stanford was likely to win Ninette’s hand. 

He will take her away to Chicago,” she said, and 
that will leave you a clear field and no rival in your 
own house.” 

I had rather see them both dead,” exclaimed Rose, 
abruptly. 

Her mother looked up at her in a startled and puz- 
zled manner, and suddenly inquired, — 

Why, surely. Rose, you do not care for this Mr. 
Stanford yourself?” 

Rose did not reply, but threw her arms around her 
mother’s neck. 

“ Poor child ! poor child !” said the mother, stroking 
her hair tenderly, and imprinting kiss after kiss upon 
her brow. 

Long ago, when a mere child, she had heard that the 
little Du Valcourt girl, with whom she was not then 
acquainted, was an adopted child, the offspring of dis- 
tant relatives. When she found herself destined to 


ROSE DISCOVERS DYNAMITE. 


83 


enter into sisterly relations with Ninette, she made 
various inquiries among the elderly ladies of her ac- 
quaintance to ascertain something of the connection 
which existed between Colonel Du Valcourt and the 
pretty young woman who bore his name, but not the 
least resemblance to him or to any of his family. 
Every one said, Oh, Mr. Du Yalcourt came here from 
his sugar plantation just after the war, with his wife 
and child, and that’s all we know certainly about it.” 

Rose Yillemaine was satisfied that some myster}^ 
surrounded Ninette, and she pondered over it secretly 
and with increasing interest. Jealousy begot dislike, 
and dislike fostered suspicion. One day it suddenly 
occurred to her to ask old Caesar about it. Caesar was 
an octogenarian, in the second line of descent from the 
genuine imported African, and the oldest living repre- 
sentative of the once very large slave property of the 
Du Yalcourt family. With crisp, snow-white hair, 
white circles in his eyes, indicating advanced age, a 
crooked back, immense knuckles upon his hands, a vast 
mouth, and a flat nose with nostrils like two great holes 
in his black face, this recently-made American citizen 
possessed great knowledge and a tenacious memory of 
the old times and the old people. 

His sou Mingo had been Colonel Du Yalcourt’s 
faithful body-servant in the army, and now had charge 
of his mercantile rooms at a respectable salary. Old 
Caesar, being half savage and knowing no better, had 
not been so loyal to the family banner. He had stayed 
at home and watched his opportunities. Often hearing 
the white people denounce the invaders as blue-bellied 
Yankees,” he seriously regarded his approaching libera- 


84 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


tors as a species of men with blue-tinted abdomens ! But 
old Caesar scented liberty as well as powder in the air, 
and was among the first to precipitate himself into the 
arms of the advancing enemy.’’ To his credit, how- 
ever, be it said, that he was the first to become disgusted 
with the contraband corral” in which ho was penned, 
and to return to his old home, convinced that the Du 
Valcourts had more to give him, and were more dis- 
posed to give it, than the Federals. 

Having heard that Caesar had a sick grandchild. 
Rose Yillemaine armed herself with a propitiatory 
basket of delicacies for the invalid, and found her way 
out to Mingo’s cottage upon St. Claude Street. The 
old freedman was sitting on the little front gallery, 
smoking his pipe serenely, and thinking probably of 
what his barbaric grandfather used to tell him of the 
elephants and river-horses of the Congo River. He 
hobbled up slowly from his seat, and received Miss 
Yillemaine with the obsequious politeness which the 
old plantation slave-driver” always exhibited to the 
white man. 

She was ushered into the negro’s little parlor. The 
humble parloi*s of the colored race in the South prove 
the immense superiority of that people over the Indian, 
and its capacity for progressive civilization. Nicely- 
papered walls, carpeted floors, comfortable sofa and 
chairs, centre-table bearing a big family Bible and a 
large album for family photographs, chromos over the 
mantel, and a profusion of china bric-^-brac every- 
where, all told the story of ambitious and successful 
imitation of the white man. Given a race with the 
imitative faculty, conscious of its deficiencies, anxious 


ROSE DISCOVERS DYNAMITE. 85 

to overcome them, and with a good model before it, and 
its future progress is certain. 

One of the walls of this little room was adorned with 
a large wood-engraving, which is frequently seen in 
the humble abodes of the southern Eepublicans. It 
is called The Death-Bed of Lincoln.” That distin- 
guished gentleman is lying upon a couch, with his 
shoulders slightly elevated and a seraphic expression of 
countenance. Generals Grant, Sherman, and Sheridan, 
with several colored preachers in white cravats, stand 
gazing upon the Moses of Emancipation, who is here 
credited with making a farewell speech to the children 
of Ham whom he had led out of the wilderness of 
slavery ! This truthful picture and others of the same 
sort have contributed much to hold the colored race 
loyal to the party of liberty and progress. The edu- 
cative power of art has been duly appreciated by the 
artful politician. 

While Rose was surveying this masterpiece of genius, 
the door of the inner room was opened, and Dr. Holden 
came forth, closely followed by an old colored woman 
wearing the ancient red-and-yellow-striped cotton hand- 
kerchief so well known in slavery times as the head- 
hankcher,” but mostly repudiated by the emancipated 
ladies of the present day. This person was Caesar’s 
wife, her exact numeral not stated, for the gay old Lo- 
thario had made many changes of matrimonial base 
without the assistance of magistrate or clergy. 

Dr. Holden was giving his last instructions in regard 
to the care of his little patient. 

The disease is fairly over now,” he said. Feed 
him cautiously, watch him carefully. Treat him like 
8 


86 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


a little lamb : let him lie down in the green pastures 
and lead him beside the still waters.” 

The doctor bowed politely to Miss Yillemaine, and 
passed out. 

Dar !” said the old woman to Caesar. I told 
you so. I knowed dat man was furmilyer wid de 
Word.” 

^‘Ob course, Melindy Jane!” growled old Caesar j 
^’ob course. De doctor is a collidge man: he knows 
de Bible by heart.” 

Knowing de Bible by heart is one thing,” said 
Melinda Jane, shaking her forefinger at her husband, 
und feelin’ de Bible in your soul is anodder thing. 
Dat doctor does bofe, and you donT do needer.” 

Bose here interrupted what might have proved one 
of those religious altercations in which negroes love to 
indulge, by presenting her basket and explaining the 
apparent object of her visit. 

After receiving their thanks, Bose said, in a soft, 
insinuating manner, to the old man, — 

Uncle Caesar, you knew all the great, rich old 
families in St. Landry and St. Mary before the war, 
didnft you ?” 

Indeed I did, mistis ! I knowed um all.” 

Yes, I have often heard the Du Valcourts say that 
you were a great favorite in the old times.” 

So I was, mistis ! so I was,” exclaimed the flattered 
African, with an immense grin. Dem Valcores nebber 
had a better nigger den I was, sho’.” 

^^Do you remember Colonel Du Valcourt’s first 
wife ?” 

Why, donft I ! I knowed her when she was a 


ROSE DISCOVERS DYNAMITE, g7 

teefing baby. She was £lise Durell, she was. Oh, 
she was mons’us fine woman 

She never had any children, did she 
Nebber a chile, mum ; and de worF was wuss off 
for de fac\” 

‘‘Then where did Miss Ninette Du Yalcourt come 
fromf' 

“ Dunno ; mought er drapped fum hebben.” 

“Oh, Uncle Csesar! children don’t drop from 
heaven.” 

“Well, dare ain’t a speck of Yalcourt blood in her 
veins, anyhow, sho’.” 

“ Oh, yes, there must be ; for she was the child of 
some distant relatives.” 

“ Whar’s dem relatives ? ’Tain’t so. I knowed all 
de kinfolks, bofe sides, fur sebenty year; and she 
don’t come in nowhar on de line. Oh, no, mistis ! 
dat’s some orphing or picked-up chile.” 

Eose was so well pleased that the old man’s evidence 
gave support to her own conjectures that she slipped a 
silver dollar into his hand, and tripped homeward with 
a lighter heart. 

With increasing assurance she had the temerity one 
day to address Colonel Du Yalcourt on the subject. 

“ Colonel Du Yalcourt,” she said, “ I am very much 
interested in everything which concerns our dear Ni- 
nette. Tell me something about her infancy and child- 
hood. Why does she say that her earliest recollection 
is of a very large house with a great many children 
in it?” 

Du Yalcourt was a man of genial and kindly spirit, 
but he had a hasty temper, and resented quickly any 


88 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


encroachment upon what he considered his private 
affairs. Rose’s voice grew weak and tremulous as she 
noticed the effect of her words upon her step-father. 
His expression was at first one of startled surprise, 
then his countenance paled perceptibly, and by the 
time she had finished her probing process a flash of 
anger was upon his brow and he replied sternly, — 

'^Ninette is the child of Emile Du Valcourt and 
£lise Durell, and Miss Yillemaine should rest con- 
tented with the fact.” 

^^Your acknowledgment of the paternity reassures 
me, sir,” said Rose, in a cold and almost haughty 
manner. ^^One should always be very certain, you 
know, of the respectability of one’s associates.” 

^^Good heavens!” said Du Valcourt to himself, as 
the young lady moved slowly out of the room. What 
does she mean ? What are we coming to ? Confound 
the curiosity of women ! There was no necessity for 
her ever to know it, or even to suspect it.” 

He felt that he had spoken hastily and unwisely, 
and that his want of tact would foment rather than 
divert any suspicions Rose might entertain. The 
more he thought of it, the more uneasy he became. 

There’s mischief in that woman’s eye,” he muttered ; 
and, with a deep sigh, he added, We bury the dead in 
vain.” 

Rose was stimulated by Du Yalcourt’s manner to 
prosecute her researches in a direction she had long 
contemplated. She had often noticed Ninette’s affec- 
tionate attentions to an old colored woman whom she 
sometimes called Lethe and sometimes Mammy.” 
How often were little delicacies from the table, articles 


ROSE DISCOVERS DYNAMITE. 


89 


of clothing, or small sums of money set aside for old 
Mammy r She thought of course that Lethe, whom 
she had never seen, was one of the ancient slaves of 
the Du Valcourt family, and, knowing that southern 
gentlemen frequently assisted the aged colored people 
they once owned, she was not surprised at Ninette’s 
dispensation of charity. But now, for accumulating 
reasons of her own, she determined to visit the old 
negress in the Pontalba Buildings, and, by cunning, 
coaxing, or threats, to draw from her what she knew 
of the birth and infancy of Ninette Du Yalcourt. 

After passing the rough scrutiny of the frowsy- 
headed, barefooted, saucy-faced young Irish damsel 
who seemed to be the picket-guard of the establish- 
ment, she found her way into the third story, back, 
and into Lethe’s room. It was plainly but neatly 
furnished. A clean bed with a new mosquito-bar 
turned back, a stand at its side with a little vase of 
flowers and a plate of fruit upon it, and a table in the 
corner with a crucifix leaned against the wall and a 
small wax candle burning before it, revealed the 
kindly attentions of some charitable soul administering 
to the physical and spiritual wants of an invalid. 

The recipient of these favors was an old semi-para- 
lyzed, bedridden woman, once a handsome and stylish 
octoroon, but long since faded and wrinkled, and now 
of a darker shade, a change of color common to per- 
sons of African descent as they grow older. Her dis- 
ease was paraplegia, — a form of paralysis in which the 
lower limbs are useless, but the upper half of the body 
is as sound as ever, the mental faculties remaining 
unimpaired. 


8 * 


90 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


Lethe Maxwell had been born free. The liberated 
negroes of Louisiana constituted a large, growing, and 
intelligent class in ante-bellum days. This woman 
had been left with respectable means by her white 
progenitor, but the little fortunes as well as the great 
ones were dissipated by the war. She had received a 
good English education, and there was little or no 
trace of the negro dialect in her conversation. She 
had a very pleasant expression of countenance, marred 
a little now and then by a glance of suspicion or cun- 
ning, vestiges, no doubt, of her slave heredity. 

The African is naturally as suspicious as a hare in a 
garden, turning his ears in all directions. Old Lethe 
regarded her finely-dressed, black-eyed young visitor 
with curiosity, not unmingled with distrust. The 
latter feeling grew into apprehension when the lady 
announced her name, — Miss Yillemaine, sister to Miss 
Ninette. 

Even while Lethe was greeting her and asking her 
to be seated, she was saying or thinking to herself, I 
wonder what she comes here for ? She’s been Ninette’s 
sister, as she calls it, for a whole year, but she has 
never troubled herself to see me before. And why 
should she come here without Ninette? She’s up to 
something on her own account, I am sure.” 

Rose’s manner, however, was affable and engaging. 
She first presented the old lady with a handsome and 
fragrant bouquet just purchased from a flower-girl near 
the cathedral. After conversing awhile on indifferent 
subjects she began talking about Ninette, whose many 
good qualities she praised in quite an enthusiastio 
manner. She felt sure on this ground of winning 


ROSE DISCOVERS DYNAMITE. 


91 

Lethe^s heart, but the replies of the colored woman 
were so cautious and non-committal that our inquisitor 
felt quite at a loss how to proceed. She was conscious 
that she had met her match in diplomacy, and began 
to fear that Lethe could neither be surprised nor forced 
into revelations. 

And so. Aunt Lethe,” she at last said, we are 
likely to lose our darling Ninette forever.” 

If Rose had inspired absolute confidence in the be- 
ginning, this question or intimation might have shocked 
Lethe inexpressibly ; but her growing suspicion of the 
young lady’s intentions mitigated the blow. She merely 
said, with assumed indifference, — 

How is that. Miss Villemaine ?” 

^^Has she not told you of her engagement to Mr. 
Stanford, and that she is going to live in Chicago 

The old woman’s heart throbbed with the shock of 
a painful surprise, but she felt intuitively that she must 
hold this visitor at arm’s length. So she answered, 
coldly, — - 

Young ladies in her station of life are not apt to 
make confidantes of old colored women.” 

^^But you,” cried Rose, with increasing emphasis,— 
Aunt Lethe, her old mammy, her nurse, who 
knew her father and mother, who knew all about her 
birth and the secret of her life.” 

Intentionally or not. Rose had emphasized the word 
secret in such a way that Lethe guessed at a flash that 
Miss Villemaine suspected there was some mystery 
about Ninette’s birth, and had come to extract it from 
her. The visit and the manner of the visitor were ex- 
plicable on this hypothesis. This inquisitive young 


92 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


woman shall get nothing out of me/^ said Lethe to her- 
self, and made no reply to Eose. 

Disconcerted at Lethe’s silence just when she ex- 
pected to surprise her into some words of revelation, 
Eose Villemaine was secretly annoyed. She felt that 
a more direct attack was absolutely necessary ; so she 
said, in a cajoling manner, — 

• ^^Now, please. Aunt Lethe, tell me who was Ninette’s 
father.” 

You are acquainted with Colonel Du Yalcourt better 
than I am.” 

Colonel Du Yalcourt is not her father,” said Eose, 
sternly ; why do you trifle with me ?” 

He is the only father to her that I have ever seen 
or known,” answered Lethe, with corresponding firm- 
ness. 

This was literally true, but it conveyed a false im- 
pression to Eose. 

You astonish me, Aunt Lethe. Then why should 
Ninette say that her first recollection was of a great big 
house with many little children in it? That looks like 
an orphan asylum, and not like the Du Yalcourt man- 
sion with only one child in it.” 

Eose’s eye might have caught a faint expression of 
alarm or apprehension on the countenance of the old 
mammy.” 

“ Nonsense !” said Lethe, boldly, sheer nonsense ! 
She must have been thinking of some grand child’s 
party at the house, or perhaps of the Infants’ School 
at the Sisters’. Anyhow, you may put that orphan 
asylum out of your mind, clean out ” 

‘‘Lethe I” said Eose, energetically, “you deceive me, 


ROSE DISCOVERS DFNAMITE. 


93 


you baffle me. I tell you plainly that there is some- 
thing wrong, something hidden, about Ninette’s par- 
entage, and I want to know it. I am rich in my own 
right, and I will pay you handsomely for the informa- 
tion. Come, now, be reasonable, and tell me the whole 
truth ” 

‘^Miss Villemaine,” said Lethe, with a simple dignity 
that made her eloquent, ‘^Colonel Du Yalcourt is the 
proper person to consult on this subject. He has the 
right to speak ; it is my duty to be silent. My knowl- 
edge, little as it is, is beyond the reach of your persua- 
sion or your purchase.” 

You are a stupid, obstinate old lock-box !” ex- 
claimed Rose, losing her patience and her temper, as 
she rose to leave. 

“I am truly sorry. Miss Yillemaine, that I have 
offended you,” said Lethe, quietly, ‘^but don’t you 
forget to put that orphan asylum theory of yours en- 
tirely out of your mind.” 

Lethe unwittingly made a great mistake in that rep- 
etition of her warning about the orphan asylum. It 
struck Rose at once that the old woman was anxious 
to bluff her off from that direction, and, with that 
perversity which is falsely attributed to her sex, she 
determined to pursue it. Accordingly, she returned 
home, replenished her purse with a bank-note of con- 
siderable value, and proceeded to the New Orleans 
Female Orphan Asylum, on Clio Street between Camp 
and Prytania. 

I will not speak of this to Ninette,” said Lethe to 
herself after Rose’s departure. ^‘It would vex and 
worry her, as it does me. It might lead her to make 


94 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


inquiries herself, and to unearth secrets which ought to 
remain hidden forever. Oh, Lord, Lord, I feel that 
some evil thing is coming upon us.’^ 

The old negress looked to the crucifix in the corner, 
made the sign of the cross, and moved her lips in 
prayer, that one forever accessible resource of the help- 
less and the unhappy. 

In a large triangular space in front of the New 
Orleans Female Orphan Asylum, laid out in walks 
and green plats, rises a granite pedestal surmounted by 
the marble statue of a corpulent, homely, middle-aged 
woman, seated in an old chair, with a little child stand- 
ing by her side and looking up trustingly into her face. 
This is no symbolical representation of Charity, guar- 
dian angel of the institution opposite. It is a statue 
and a good likeness of dear old Margaret,’^ the great 
baker-woman, the pride of New Orleans, who dis- 
tributed freely her loaves of bread, bread enough 
and to spare,” every day for many years, to all the 
orphan asylums in the city, without distinction of 
creed, race, or color. What a touching funeral was 
hers, with thousands of children in its train, when 
Catholic and Protestant and Jewish tears and flowers 
fell all together into her grave ! May the Bread of 
Heaven be her portion forever ! 

The old mother superior who had managed the affairs 
of this institution twenty years before had gone to her 
eternal rest. The new mother superior, in whose hand- 
some face a mingled softness and energy of character 
were depicted, received Bose Villemaine very sweetly, 
and proved herself affable and communicative, for she 
knew that the Villemaine and Du Yalcourt families had 


ROSE DISCOVERS DYNAMITE. 


95 


been for many generations devoted adherents of the 
Catholic faith. 

E-ose stated that she came on a little matter of busi- 
ness inquiry, of no importance to any one but herself, 
but she would first take the opportunity of doing what 
she had neglected of late, and what she always re- 
proached herself for neglecting; and with that she 
produced a hundred-dollar note and begged the good 
mother to apply it to the needs of the institution. The 
superior smiled benignantly upon this pious and liberal 
daughter of the church. 

^^And now,” said Rose, in the most insinuating 
manner, is it permissible for me to examine the old 
records of the admissions and discharges of the orphans 
for several years just after the war?” 

Ah ! if the old mother had been living who knew 
all, she would have put her finger upon her sweet lips 
and have said, No, my child.” 

But the new mother was ignorant of the facts, and un- 
suspicious and accommodative ; and where could be the 
harm ? So Miss Rose was escorted to a small private 
library, the old records for several years after the war 
were placed before her, and she was left alone to find 
what she wanted. 

In the volume for 1867, under the heading Ad- 
mission 43. April 10,” she found something which 
made her give a little shriek of astonishment, followed 
by a sort of chuckle of fiendish satisfaction. It read 
thus : Admitted. Mary Emily Gordon : aged 4 

years. Of African descent, although apparently white. 
Placed by her grandmother, Lethe Maxwell, an octo- 
roon, who states that the mother, Emily Gordon, is 


96 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


leading a disreputable life and wishes to consign her 
child to the protection of the church.^^ Underneath 
was written : “See Book of Discharges, page 313/^ 

Eose hastily turned to this reference, and read, — 
“Discharge No. 31. Oct. 20. Mary Emily Gordon. 
Transferred to the care of Colonel Emile Du Valcourt 
and his wife, who positively declined inspecting the 
records, and preferred to know nothing whatever of the 
origin of the child.^^ Underneath was written : “ This 
child was subsequently rebaptized Ninette Du Valcourt, 
and adopted by regular process of law.^’ 

Eose Villemaine copied these records with rapid and 
trembling hand, and put the paper in her pocket. 

Passing out of the room, she encountered the mother 
superior. “ Did you find what you were looking for, 
my child 

“ I did, mother ; many thanks for your kindness.” 

“ Your researches among the old records seem to have 
excited you considerably,” said the good woman, studi- 
ous of faces. 

“ They were very interesting,” said Eose, hurrying 
away. 

Whoever examines the regulations of that asylum at 
the present day will discover that it receives no chil- 
dren under nine years of age, and admits no person of 
African descent. 

Eose Villemaine was so amazed and, it must be said, 
so delighted by her terrible discovery, that she drew 
down her veil and hastened home, afraid that some one 
might detect her great excitement. Passing Ninette in 
the hall, she bestowed upon her a smile of unusual 
sweetness. When she had locked the door of her own 


ROSE DISCOVERS DYNAMITE. 97 

room behind her, she exclaimed, with a clinched hand 
and a beaming countenance, — 

This is dynamite !” 

Ninette Du Yalcourt dreamed that night that she was 
moving along a beautiful woodland path overhung with 
vines and flowers. Suddenly she discovered an im- 
mense spider’s web stretched entirely across the way, 
A huge black spider sat in the centre of it, and, on 
closer inspection, Ninette perceived, with horror, that 
the monstrous insect had the head and face of Eose 
Villemaine. 


98 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


CHAPTEE VII. 

THE OLD FRENCHMAN'S STORY. 

When Hugh Stanford had shaken hands with Dr. 
Hypolite Meissonier at his door, he repaired at once to 
Cora Morette^s office, anxious to act upon the learned 
magnetizer’s suggestion, to plunge the medium in the 
trance state into a second and deeper trance, so as to 
secure a more vivid impression of the most remote 
events and objects. 

Before Cora was hypnotized she received him with 
her usual stolid indifference, but so soon as she passed 
into the interior condition she seemed like a new person, 
animated by new feelings. She remembered every 
incident of the former stance, and manifested the live- 
liest interest in her visitor and his undertaking. 

As soon as she took his hand in hers she exclaimed, 
with some little agitation, — 

The last person you shook hands with is your 
enemy : you have inspired him with fear and anger.’^ 
How could I, a perfect stranger, affect him in that 

way 

Your life-current has run counter to his. In some 
way you have awakened his past, and he regards you 
with distrust and enmity. He is cowardly, and all 
cowards are cruel. Keep out of his Vay.” 


THE OLD FRENCHMAN'S STORY. 99 

Can you see that person as I now see him in my 
mind’s eye?” 

Certainly I see him, just as you do.” And she 
proceeded to describe Dr. Hypolite Meissonier in ^ 
very minute and correct manner. 

Suddenly she exclaimed, with trepidation, Do you 
not see, sir, that this last person you have brought me 
greatly resembles the intimate friend of Gordon Clarke ? 
He is older, browner, sterner; but the outline, the 
features, the large hands out of proportion to the face, 
are the same. This new enemy of yours is the young 
doctor twenty years after.” 

Hugh Stanford was profoundly affected. “Is it 
possible,” he said to himself, “ that I have thus, acci- 
dentally as it were, stumbled upon the murderer of 
Gordon Clarke ?” 

His common sense immediately reproached him for 
his precipitate conclusion. Nothing had been really 
discovered or gained. Cora Morette had suggested the 
identity of Meissonier and the friend who visited Gor- 
don Clarke in the old Hotel des Strangers, and nothing 
more. It had never been proven that any murder 
had been committed. Not a shadow of proof had 
been found to substantiate his hypothesis that the 
young doctor committed it. Evidently he had to go 
deeper. 

He now suggested to the young druggist who oper- 
ated for Cora to renew his mesmeric passes and throw 
her into a still deeper trance. At first he protested 
against it, not knowing, he said, what effect such an 
unusual proceeding would have upon the frame of such 
a sensitive and delicate woman. He was finally per- 


100 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

suaded to make the experiment, and the result was 
surprising. 

Cora Morette seemed to be a still different woman, 
to have evolved a third personality. Her voice and 
manner were changed. She was more cultivated, more 
astute, more communicative, and displayed deeper in- 
sight and more vivid impressions. These strange effects 
of a trance within a trance, then almost unknown, have 
since (1890) been fully verified by the experiments of 
the French psychologists. 

She read Gordon Clarke’s thoughts at the time of 
writing the last letter to his brother, perceived the 
pleasure he anticipated in rejoining his old friends, saw 
his determination to establish himself in some great 
commercial business in New York, even looked back- 
ward and read his memory of the death-bed of his wife 
and all the harrowing scenes connected with it. 

That’s yellow fever,” she exclaimed ; I know it. 
See ! the old dead gold of the face, the bleeding of the 
gums, the stains of black vomit on the gown ; the mut- 
tering, the tossing of the arms. Horrible !” 

When her attention was directed to the young doctor 
as Clarke’s best friend, she said, — 

Yes — friend ! such friend as the wolf is to the 
lamb it is about to devour. What a cunning, sensual, 
cruel fellow! His thoughts are fixed upon those 
trunks of Mr. Clarke. There’s an immense sum of 
money in those trunks. That man has robbery on 
his mind, — but how to perpetrate it without the risk 
of discovery ! 

heard him whisper to his beautiful wife, ^I’ll 
make away with Clarke while you make away with 


THE OLD FRENCHMAN'S STORY, IQl 

the child/ I see the she- wolf fawning upon the lamb I 
Monstrous ! 

I now hear the young doctor say, ^ Come, Clarke, 
let us take a stroll/ 

It is night ; it is bedtime. They walk the streets; 
both are tired. Clarke says, ^ Let us go home to the 
child.’ The doctor replies, ^Oh, she is sound asleep 
by this time, and Lucia is watching over her. Let us 
go in here and get some ice-cream.’ 

A curious little oyster-saloon ! What a queer old 
Frenchman ! and a splendid parrot in a great gilded 
cage ; a fine talker. That Frenchman knows a great 
deal about the very things you want to know. You 
must find that man.” 

“How can I find him?” said Stanford; “he is prob- 
ably dead or moved away.” 

“ No,” said Cora ; “ I cannot explain to you how I 
know it, but I tell you he is living and in the same 
place, and so is the parrot.” 

“ Where is the place ?” he asked, eagerly. 

But Cora was silent. A great and sudden change 
had come over her. She stared into vacancy like one 
witnessing a terrible scene. Her countenance was sad 
and anxious. Her breathing was heavy. She seemed 
sufibcated. 

Stanford questioned her anxiously about what she 
saw and heard, for he felt confident that her inner sight 
had penetrated to the very heart of the mystery, but 
she gave no answer. On the very threshold of the 
great discovery the door was suddenly shut in his 
face. 

In fact, Cora Morette looked almost like a dying 
9 ^ 


102 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


woman. She was in a cold, clammy perspiration, and 
her heart beat feebly. 

“It is useless to question her,” said the operator. 
“ When she is plunged into these very deep trances, 
and sees distressing things, especially if they com- 
promise others, Cora remains absolutely silent. See ! 
I must relieve her from this dangerous strain upon her 
nervous system.” 

He opened her eyelids and blew forcibly upon her 
eyeballs. He then made the upward mesmeric passes, 
exclaiming, in a strong, cheerful voice, “It is all right ! 
all right ! Now you are yourself again !” 

Natural respiration returned ; the skin became 
warmer; Cora opened her eyes and looked languidly 
around. She then said, with a faint smile, — 

“You must have sent me to an immense distance, I 
feel so exhausted.” 

In a moment or two, however, Stanford and the 
operator observed that Cora Morette was not in her 
natural condition, but was still in the first trance state, 
talking about Stanford’s newly-made enemy and un- 
conscious of external objects. A renewal of the mes- 
meric passes restored her to her normal state, in which 
she remembered nothing at all of her interior im- 
pressions. Singular it was, but on coming into her 
ordinary condition she made use of the same words, — 

“ You must have sent me to an immense distance, I 
feel so exhausted.” 

Profoundly impressed with this interview, Stanford 
hurried forth, immediately to begin his search for the 
old Frenchman and his parrot. He remembered his 
own supposition in the hypothesis he had laid before 


THE OLD FRENCHMAN'S STORY. 


103 


Mr. Ephraim Clarke, that the stranger found dead in 
the oyster-saloon not far from the Hdtel des Strangers 
was his brother Gordon. What if this old French- 
man to whom Cora had directed him was the very 
man who kept the saloon when the supposed tragedy 
occurred in it ! If he could find this man, he might 
possibly obtain some positive, tangible, legal evidence 
which would connect Meissonier with the murder 
which he felt sure had been committed. 

He entered Chartres Street, and explored the front 
of every store with anxious, inquisitive eyes. Every- 
thing seemed d la Frangake, quite unlike the same 
kind of establishments in the American quarter. He 
passed that curious bird-store where not only birds of 
all kinds, but the strangest fowls that were ever seen, 
guinea-pigs, rabbits, monkeys, and even alligators are 
kept on sale. He passed milliner-shops which dis- 
played such curious and beautiful things in the win- 
dows, so un-American, that he could scarcely believe 
he was not in Paris. The people moving about seemed 
to him to have foreign faces, and on all sides his ear 
caught the musical tones of the French language. 

He suddenly felt a thrill of pleasurable excitement, 
for his eye caught sight of a large hanging cage which 
contained an old, frowsy, faded, sleepy-looking parrot. 
Glancing into the door- way, he saw that the place was 
a little restaurant or saloon, with a counter on one side 
with the usual array of shelves and bottles behind it, 
and a row of stalls on the other side, each with a long 
red curtain hanging before it. He stepped into the 
little establishment for further exploration. 

A diminutive, wrinkled, sallow, black-eyed old 


104 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


fellow came forward, with a red velvet skull-cap on 
his head and a white napkin across his left arm. 

Enter, monsieur,” he said, in broken English. 
“ Wad shall I geef you ?” 

Nothing to eat at present,” said Stanford ; I am 
in search of information.” 

<^Eh?” 

How long have you lived in this house ?” 

“ Since ten year ^fo’ de war.” 

That is good. It happened within that time.” 

“ Wad ees happen ? Happen here ?” 

A stranger was found dead in some saloon upon 
this street one night in June, 1865, — just after the war. 
Do you remember the incident ?” 

KememV ? mee ? Ah, mon Dim ! Joos lig’ las’ 
night. Forgeet it nevaire !” 

Will you have the kindness to tell me the story ?” 

Certainementy monsieur. Seat yourse’f.” They sat 
down on the chairs at the far end of the counter. 

You no speak Tranche ? — no ?” 

Not well enough for this purpose.” 

Eh him ! I speak much bad Angleesh, me ! I 
meex my Franche and my Angleesh many time.” 

Never mind. I shall comprehend you very well.” 

De two stranger, vous savezy’ he began, were stay 
at de hotel cloze by, and dey come tree, four time in 
my lilF shop for ize-cream. It made veF warm, and 
ze oyster was no more eat. Ah, monsieur, we haf 
oysters mperbe in dese water here. You know dad?” 

Stanford readily acquiesced by an affirmative nod in 
the truth of this interested statement, and the little 
Frenchman continued ; 


THE OLD FRENCHMAN'S STORY. 


105 


One night dese men come in late. I was by my- 
se’f, me. Dey went into cette stall la ! nummer 6. I 
lite de gaz. De tall young man, de utter man call him 
le docteury he follow me back to de counter, and he com- 
mand two ize-cream. Den he wheesper to me, hees 
turn point over hees shoulder to de stall, ^ My fren’ 
ees drhonk.^ 

was Honn^y me. Hees fren’ no seem to me 
drhonk ! Eh hieUy I serve dem, and I go and sect at 
de door by myse’f. 

Dey make many noise in de street dad night. By 
and by I hear move in de stall lig^ dey was shove de 
chair to go. When I was come cloze at de stall, de 
tall docteur he poke hees head out from de curtain, and 
he say, sharp, queek, ^ We want nuthn’ more at present.^ 
So I go back at my door, me. 

In five or ten minutes de docteur he come out by 
he’se’f, and he pay for de creams. Den he put one 
dollar in my han’, and he say, lig’ wheesper, ^My 
drhonken fren’ is ’sleep. Doan you wake heem. Let 
him sleep one, two hour. I will come at your shop 
and take heem home.’ 

When de docteur was 'partly I go at de stall, eesy, 
creep lig’ cat, to look at de drhonken man. I said to 
myse’f, ^ He got dhronk mightee queek !’ De docteur 
had turned down de gaz low, make hees fren’ sleep 
good. I push de curtains to one side. I smell 
sump’en funny. I din’ put peach-leaves in my creams, 
no ! Eh bie'Tiy I see de drhonken man in one corner, 
lean up at de wall, wid hees hat mash down over hees 
eye. ^ Sleep or drhonk, or peut-Mre bofe,’ says I. 

no lig’ dad in my lill’ shop. I no lig’ sleep 


106 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


here *, I no lig’ drhonk here ; but de one dollar make 
me silence. Ah, monsieur, I had wrong; I wish 
many time I had refuse. 

Eh Men! I go back at de door. Nobody come. 
I talk to my Pollee. Ah, dad Pollee talk good when 
he was young : he is silence now. I see one beeg 
torch-light procession of nager go by. Dose nager 
were much happee for deir freedom. Dey make many 
noise : dey was fool happee. A nager is nevaire more 
happee den in one procession or one funeraille wid some 
museek and one beeg flag. Doan you know dad? 
Eh 

Stanford confessed that he was not aware of such 
an African characteristic. Having reasserted the fact 
and charged his visitor to look out for it in future, the 
old fellow continued : 

Two more partee came in for ize-cream. I serve 
dem in dose stall, la ! two and four. 

“ Mais’^ he said, suddenly returning to his last train 
of thought, ^^doze nager, dey so lazee and dey so much 
lig’ museek, dey god all de han^-organ ’way from de 
Italiennes. Ha ! ha !” 

Do they train the monkeys as well as the Italians 
did ?” said Stanford. 

No, no !” said he, laughing and shrugging his 
shoulders. “ No, no ; Monsieur le n^gre will not touch 
Monsieur le Monkee. No, no. He haf not much love 
for hees near relation.” 

Stanford gratified the old man with a little smile at 
his malicious sally, and said, Now, please go on with 
your story, which is becoming intensely interesting 
to me.” 


THE OLD FRENCHMAN'S STORY, 107 

Eh hien ! It came midnight. II me faut shut up 
my lilP shop. I peep into de stall nummer 6. De 
dhronken man was prids^ment in same position, — 
lean’ up at de wall, hat mash over hees eye. He sleep 
good ! I walk at my door, and I look up and down 
de street for de tall docteur, but he no come.” And, 
throwing up his eyes and both hands, he added, He 
nevaire come ! 

En firiy vous saveZj I lose my patience, me. I go 
at de stall. I had put out all de light but one, and it 
made some dark. I say to myse’f, ^ Dees man must 
go out. Dad one dollar doan pay no more.’ I call 
heem two, tree time, loud. I shook tim hard ; but no, 
he stay all de same. I feel hees han’. ’Twas ice ! 
Mon Dieu! mon Dieu! He was cold and dead. I 
spring oud dad stall lig’ one live alligator was on de 
bench. Oh, it made me much fear !” 

What did you do then ?” said Stanford. 

I rush at de door. I call, ^ Police ! police !’ One 
crowd of peop’ come soon. Dee police run in and 
drive dem all oud. Dey bring one coroner, — you call 
heem? — and dey hole one eenques’. Verdeek — ^Dead 
by congestion of hees brain from drhinking and from 
heat excessif.’ De eenques’ was all right, but de ver- 
deek ? was dad right ? May be so ! May be not ! 

No monnaie was by dad man, joos one-half dollar; 
no watch, no papers. He look too gentil for dad. No 
docteur come for heem, no fren’, and — ah, mon Dieu / 
— no confession, no absolution, no mass for hees soul ! 
He was bury in one pine coffin wid de pauper. Sump’en 
was wrong in dad beesness. Doan you thing so? Eh?” 

^^Yes, there must have been something terribly 


108 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

wrong about it,” said Stanford, looking into the little 
stall where he believed Gordon Clarke had met his 
mysterious death. 

^^Did you tell all this,” said he, ^Ho the gentleman 
who called several weeks afterwards to inquire into the 
matter ?” 

Ah, monsieur ! I was not here. I had gone to see 
my poor m^re, who was lef ’ at Eouen ten years ^fo’ de 
war. I was crazzie to go at my helle France one time 
more. One agent, he keep my lilF shop. Ah, ftis hard 
time, dese : no more good time lig’ ^fo’ de wn,r.” 

Why not ?” said Stanford, curious to know what 
idea, if any, this poor Frenchman had of the economic 
problem. 

Vous savezy^ said he, de nager and de Yankee 
meex make one bad, bad gouvernementy and de Demo- 
crat, dey learn all de treeks, and dey din’ do no better 
when dey god power. 

Lemme tell you sump’en strange, bien Grange’’ he 
said, suddenly, about dad parrot, dad old Pollee in 
de cage. You will not beleef. C^est impossible.^* 
Stanford desired him to put his credulity to the test. 

Eh bien ! Dad bird emeetate fine. He is moze 
human. Eef de firemen run by, he flop hees wings 
and he scream ‘ Fire ! fire !’ lig’ a lilF boy ! If one 
man pass at de door, and he say loud, ^ O you fool !’ 
to his frien’, dad ole parrot will say, ^ fool, fool, fool !’ 
all de day. He peek up some bad words dad way 
many time, and dad make me trow some water in hees 
face. 

iJcouteZy monsieur ! De night dad poor man was 
lay on the floor for de eenques’, de Pollee was tr^-exdU, 


THE OLD FRENCHMAN'S STORY. 


109 


He make noise, he flap hees wing, he scream. Nobody 
lissen. He say, ^ Clarke ! Clarke first hoarse in hees 
trote; nex’ time more loud, ^Clarke! Clarke!’ Nobody 
lissen. He geet mad : he scream, ^ Clarke ! Clarke ! 
Clarke !’ ’till I trow some water in hees face to make 
heem silence. 

Ouij monsieur ! c^est vrai : every day till we lef to 
go at France, poor Pollee would say, ^ Clarke ! Clarke !’ 
I said, ^ Wad make Pollee do dese strange way? Wad 
he mean by dad word ?’ When we come back from 
France the peop’ tell us how de Mister Clarke was look 
all about here for his lost brotter ! You thing dad 
man might be name Clarke ? Pollee might hear his 
fren’, de docteur, call him so. Doan you thing? I 
beleef it, me.” 

“ I believe you are right in your conjecture,” said 
Stanford, remembering how the intelligent cry of the 
cranes had brought the appalled murderers of Ibycus 
to confession and justice. ‘^But answer me one more 
question : did you ever see the young doctor again ?” 

Yez and no, bofe I” he answered, with a quizzical 
expression. 

What do you mean by that contradiction ?” 

I mean dad I say, ‘Yez, I have seen heem, me ;’ 
mais le docteur, he says, ‘ No, no, you have not seen him.’ 

“ For long, long time, I nevaire see Monsieur le 
Docteur. I had forgeet him. One day one docteur 
open hees office on Rue St. Louis. I watch heem some 
time. I say to myse’f, ‘ I know dad man, but where 
did I see heem ?’ At las’ one day, sudden, I recognize 
him as de fren’ of de man who died in my saloon. He 
was more large, more rough, more dark skin, hees voice 
10 


110 A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

more stern ; but I know heem ! His beeg nose, his 
beeg, black eyes, his height, — mos’ Creole man is 
small, — his broad hands, and his gestures, all tell me I 
have reason. 

One time I stop heem on de street and I ask heem 
if he no rememb’ dad his fren’ died in my lilP shop. 
He made beeg, beeg eyes at me : he was mad lig’ one 
savage. He say, loud, loud, ‘No, no! monsieur, vous 
vous trompezJ 

As Stanford said nothing, the garrulous old French- 
man continued : 

“ Dad is one strange man, — dad Docteur Hypolite 
Meissonier. He goes to de dog or to de diable, bien vite, 
I know dad, me. 

“ I have much fear to meet dad man. When I am 
by myself, seuhy I thing it all over, and I know he lies, 
and dad he is de same docteur. But when he feex hees 
beeg, beeg, black eyes on me, I feel much shame, and 
dad ilfaut apologize for make some mistake.” 

Stanford concealed from the old Frenchman the im- 
mense satisfaction the conversation had given him, 
thanked him for his information, and hurried off to 
lay his discoveries before Denfield and Holden. 

“ This is the first genuine clue,” said the lawyer, 
“ which you have obtained towards the solution of your 
mystery. The old Frenchman is a living witness, 
whose evidence in connection with other things may be 
of great importance. Cora’s visions may be ruled out 
of the case.” 

“ Without Cora,” said Stanford, “ I would never 
have suspected Meissonier or discovered the old French- 
man.” 


THE OLD FRENCHMAN'S STORY. m 

I dare say,” remarked the doctor, looking at Stan- 
ford, that Mr. Denfield thinks that Cora’s detection 
of Meissonier’s antipathy to you, on touching your 
hand, was altogether incredible. Such things are com- 
mon in psychometric experiences. Rev. C. H. Town- 
send, in a letter to Dr. Elliotson, of London, relates 
this well-authenticated story ; 

distinguished physician comes in to see his 
patient, a little behind the expected time. She is pros- 
trated with typhoid fever, but is perfectly rational. He 
takes her offered hand in his usual sympathetic way. 
She instantly drops it, exclaiming in a distressed man- 
ner, ^ Oh, that poor little boy ! Why did you cut his 
head open, doctor ? Oh ! the blood upon your hands ! 
How is he now?’ The doctor had just come from tre- 
panning a little boy on account of a fall upon his head. 
No person in the house had heard of the accident or 
the operation, but when the patient took hold of the 
doctor’s hand she entered at once into a knowledge of 
the circumstances. In fact, she simply saw the images 
which had been impressed upon the doctor’s mind.” 

What do you think, doctor,” said Stanford, of 
that strange condition of Cora when she seemed to be 
nearly dead, and would make no response to any of my 
questions ?” 

I believe she was witnessing the minutest scenes of 
Gordon Clarke’s murder just as they really occurred. I 
am reminded here of the wonderful experiences of 
Zschokke, the great and good German sensitive. Look- 
ing at people, he could see some event of their lives 
represented before him as a living, moving drama. It 
was not only thought-reading, it was memory-reading, 


112 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


a visual perception of a duly-connected crowd of images 
stored up in the memory of men. This faculty, indeed 
all faculties, exist latent in us all. It appeared in 
Zschokke spontaneously in the waking state. It was 
produced in the typhoid patient by morbid processes in 
the nervous system. It was developed in Cora by the 
hypnotic condition. It is susceptible of progressive 
cultivation. You will evolve the whole secret by and 
by, detect the murderer, and discover the child.^^ 

I am sure of it,^^ said Stanford, exultingly. 

These two friends then entered upon a free inter- 
change of thought about spiritualism, psychometry, 
theosophy, Swedenborg, mind-cure, homoeopathy, and 
the occult forces of nature. Denfield listened incredu- 
lously as usual, but before they parted he was obliged 
to confess to himself, with a touch of shame, that, like 
many other prejudiced people, he had often expressed 
opinions upon great subjects of which he really knew 
little or nothing. 


PREPARATIONS, 


113 


CHAPTEE VIII. 

PREPARATIONS. 

While Eose Villemaine was arranging her dynamite 
in the little mine she intended to spring upon Ninette 
Du Valcourt, the adroit young lawyer on Carondelet 
Street had set a trap for some other parties connected 
with this story. 

Madame Lucia Meissonier, having just finished her 
breakfast, remained still at the table reading the New 
Orleans Picayune. Her husband sat by the window 
smoking his cigar in a state of profound abstraction. 
The lady was attired in a rose-colored morning 
wrapper, embroidered with gold thread and delicately 
trimmed with lace. She had soft brown eyes, wavy 
black hair, and an exquisite rose-and-gold brunette 
complexion. Her voice was pleasing, a little over- 
sweet if anything, and her manners were soft and 
fascinating. A very beautiful woman at sixteen is 
still beautiful at thirty-six, especially if, like Madame 
Lucia, she has never borne children. 

This charming reader of the PicayunCy feeling, like 
most ladies, a deeper interest in private than in public 
affairs, had eschewed the editorials and heavy articles, 
devoured the marriages and deaths, ran her eye along 
the columns for murders, elopements, robberies, and 
suicides, and had just settled with zeal upon the new 
advertisements. 
h 


10 * 


114 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


She suddenly clapped her hands in girlish glee, and 
called out joyously to her husband, — 

Hypolite ! Hypolite ! look here. What a bonanza 
for us ! What a fortune ! What a magnificent op- 
portunity 

^^What is it, ma hdle 'petite growled the doctor; 
‘^are you crazy 

“ Listen V she answered, with a radiant smile. 

‘ $50,000 Kewakd ! A child two years old was 
lost or stolen in New Orleans in June, 1865. Her 
name was Mary Gilford Clarke. The above reward 
will be paid for the discovery and identification of this 
person. Apply to George Denfield, Attorney-at-Law, 
Denegre Building, 33 and 35 Carondelet Street, New 
Orleans.’ 

“ What do you think of that ?” said Lucia, looking 
up to her husband’s face. But in a moment she ex^ 
claimed, anxiously, Meissonier, what is the matter 
with you?” 

The doctor’s countenance expressed the utmost con- 
cern, amounting almost to dismay. 

Bonanza indeed !” he muttered, between his teeth. 

It is more like the knell of doom.” 

What upon earth do you mean ?” said the woman, 
impatiently. 

I connect this advertisement with the visit of that 
Chicago man to New Orleans, with an old letter and a 
lock of hair, to find out what became of Gordon Clarke 
and his child.” 

Well, I see in that no reason for fear.” 

Are you so stupid, Lucia, as not to infer that the 
parties who offer fifty thousand dollars for the dis- 


PREPARATIONS. 115 

covery of the child are not also busying themselves to 
find traces of the murderer of the father ?” 

Let them search ! Their work is chimerical. The 
facts are positively beyond the reach of detection.’’ 

I wish I could feel so, but there is a subtle, un- 
conquerable fear in my heart, a deep and dark fore- 
boding of evil, which I cannot shake off. Let us keep 
perfectly quiet, not speak nor move, until the storm 
blows over and we are safe.” 

“ Preposterous !” said the woman, almost fiercely. 
“ On the contrary, let us come boldly forward, produce 
the child, and claim the reward.” 

Are you mad, Lucia ? Where did you train to go 
into lion’s cages ?” 

*‘My father,” said the wife, haughtily, ^^was a 
Spanish matador, and the bravest bull-fighter in Ma- 
drid. My mother was a French ballet-dancer who cap- 
tivated mechanics and emperors. I inherit something 
of their dash and spirit. It is often the best thing to 
do, to beard the lion in his den.” 

Inimitable woman !” said the doctor, his face 
brightening up with admiration of his beautiful part- 
ner. You led me to fortune once through a difficult 
and dangerous way ” 

^ And will lead you to another, only half as large, 
but imperatively necessary to us in our present con- 
dition.” 

You spoke of producing the child,” said the doctor, 
suddenly dropping into a despairing tone. ^‘What 
folly ! Who knows anything of the child ?” 

Have you no wit, Hypolite, no cunning, no power 
of invention ? Why bother ourselves about the child ? 


110 A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 

We hold in our hands relics of the little girl and of her 
mother, positive proofs, which will substantiate the 
claims of any young woman we may designate as 
Gordon Clarke’s daughter.” 

Any young woman ?” 

“ Of course. Monsieur Hypolite Stupid ! The child 
not being discoverable, we must produce a substitute.” 

A substitute ! Have you reflected upon the diffi- 
culties, the dangers, the impossibility of such a 
scheme ?” 

They are all imaginary,” said the charmer, with a 
graceful wave of her hand, ^^all imaginary. In a 
week’s time I will have a plan arranged and perfected, 
so that even your fears will vanish at its obvious 
practicability.” 

But, mark you,” said the doctor, in a low, grave 
tone, “ I am not to be seen nor heard in the matter. 
I must remain absolutely in the dark, unknown, un- 
suspected.” 

Agreed,” said his wife, with a smile. will 
monopolize the risk and the glory. And then,” she 
added, advancing upon him coquettishly, I will give 
you all the money.” 

Inimitable woman ! ma belle rose cried the 
doctor, as he folded the subtle creature in his arms. 

A few days after the inception of this conspiracy, 
Mr. George Denfield, happening to go to his office a 
little earlier than usual, found a visitor waiting in the 
anteroom. Jim, the office-boy, with a very red head, 
freckled face, and turned-up nose, was quietly keeping 
his eye upon him, for he had an intuition that, as he 
expressed it, this customer needs watching.” 


PREPARATIONS. 


117 


The customer was a tall, sallow-fiiced man, rather 
shabbily dressed, with a long, bushy, iron-gray beard, 
green goggles, and a black felt hat well pushed down 
upon his forehead. He advanced awkwardly towards 
Denfield, and, without a word of introduction, held 
out a paper in one hand and pointed to an advertise- 
ment in it with a finger of the other. 

Does this mean business he said, in a low tone. 

“ Why do you ask such a question said the lawyer. 

‘‘There are so many ruses, tricks, and traps, that 
plain, honest folks don’t know what to believe.” 

“Do you suppose,” said Denfield, sternly, “that I 
would lend my name to anything illegal or unfair ?” 

“I know nothing of your name,” said the other, 
gruffly. “ I want to learn if you really have fifty thou- 
sand dollars to pay the person who produces Mary 
Gilford Clarke and identifies her to your satisfaction.” 

“ I am authorized to draw a check for that amount so 
soon as the young woman is produced and identified.” 

“ It is the largest reward ever offered in the world,” 
said the visitor, suspiciously. 

“ The man who offers it is worth ten millions. The 
sum is only the two-hundreth part of his fortime. 
Your payment is absolutely certain.” 

“ Oh, I have no interest whatever in the matter,” 
said the tall man, rather quickly. “I have a lady 
friend, a neighbor, who picked up a child of that 
name, of that age, and at that very time. The grown- 
up woman is living in this city, and my friend will 
produce her on assurance that this is a bona fide trans- 
action, the very largeness of the reward having made 
her doubt it.” 


118 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


you give the name and address of your 

friend.” 

“ Mrs. Lucia Maspero. She will call upon you in 
person at any time you may designate.” 

Next Thursday morning at ten o’clock,” said the 
lawyer, will give her an interview. ^^Now, sir, 
your own name and address, if you please.” 

Pierre Gentilly,” said the visitor, and then slowly 
added, “ 125 Locust Street. You do not need my ad- 
dress, for, I assure you, I shall take no further part in 
the business.” He then nodded behind his green 
goggles and withdrew. 

Jim,” said Mr. Denfield, quickly, to the office-boy, 
who had been all ear to this interview, without having 
seemed to notice anything, — Jim, step down the back 
way, follow that man without attracting notice, report 
where he goes to, and who lives at 125 Locust Street. 
Here’s a dollar for you.” 

Jim darted away as only swallows, small boys,- and 
chicken-hawks can dart. 

I suspect that fellow was disguised,” said Denfield, 
softly, to himself. 

Jim was absent about two hours, but he executed 
his commission to the letter. He spotted the green 
goggles to 980 Esplanade Street, away out by the 
race-track. The man entered a little cottage which 
was concealed from the street by a very high green 
fence, over which one could see the red clusters of the 
crape-myrtle trees. He asked at the first corner grocery 
who lived there, and was answered, ^^Old Madame 
Fortier.” He then found his way to the remote locality 
penetrated by Locust Street, and discovered, to use his 


PREPARATIONS. 119 

own expression, that 125 was a vacant, fenced-in lot, 
and nobody lived there but a cow and calf.” 

Hugh Stanford had not been in New Orleans more 
than a month before he discovered that he had two 
missions to fulfil, — one, of an ephemeral although im- 
portant nature, for Mr. Ephraim Clarke ; the other for 
himself, of a sacred and eternal character. There is ne 
need to put too mystical a point upon it or to para- 
phrase it in flowery language. He was desperately in 
love with Ninette Du Valcourt, a fact he no longer en^ 
deavored to hide from himself, and which indeed he 
found it very difficult to conceal from other people. 

He had very little opportunity, owing to the restraints 
of Creole society, to tell his love in the gushing, im- 
petuous manner which his own feelings perpetually 
tempted him to adopt. Yet such is the subtile mag- 
netic rapport between lovers that he was agreeaijly 
conscious that the tender tones of his voice and the 
admiring glances of his eye were understood, appre- 
ciated, and accepted by the charming woman who en- 
acted the part of supreme ignorance in the matter. 

Determined to obtain freer access to the object of his 
affections, he availed himself of a good Creole custom, 
not unknown elsewhere, and proceeded to lay his case 
before her highly-esteenaed father. He therefore so- 
licited a special interview, and he repaired by appoint- 
ment at a certain hour to Colonel Du Valcourt’s office. 
He was well fortified with letters and documents which 
established the respectability of his family, his own 
high character for integrity and capacity, and the very 
important fact that he was in good circumstances 
and engaged in lucrative business. He then asked 


120 -4 MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 

Colonel Du Valcourt’s permission to pay court to his 
daughter. 

Your own appearance, conversation, and manners,’^ 
said the ruddy old gentleman, with easy politeness, 
^^make these formalities quite unnecessary to me. You 
are at liberty, sir, to make your advances and declara- 
tions in your own time and manner. I have perfect 
confidence in you and a growing affection for you, 
and I shall not hesitate to trust my daughter’s happi- 
ness into your hands whenever she shall signify her 
consent. 

Of one thing, however,” he continued, it is my 
duty to apprise you. Ninette is not our own child, 
but was adopted by us when she was barely out of her 
infancy.” 

have already learned that fact, sir,” said Stanford, 
from mutual friends.” 

As to her parentage began Du Valcourt 

It is unnecessary, sir, to enter into that question. 
I shall seek Miss Du Valcourt at my own valuation of 
her, and it is enough for me to know that she has been 
reared from infancy in your own family and under 
your influences.” 

Colonel Du Valcourt now touched his bell and called 
for a bottle of champagne, which was brought in by his 
old army-servant, Mingo, and served in handsome style. 
The success of Stanford’s double enterprises was drunk 
by the colonel, the health and happiness of the Du Val- 
court family was pledged by Stanford, and an addi- 
tional bumper was consecrated to the perpetual Union 
of the States and of all true lovers. North and South. 

^^Now, Mingo,” said the colonel, with an arch smile. 


PREPARATIONS. 


121 


“ tell Mr. Stanford how you came to run away at the 
battle of Antietam.” 

‘^Now, Mars’ Emile/’ said Mingo, deprecatingly, — if 
any other colored gentleman had been present, Mingo 
would have called his employer Colonel Du Valcourt; 
when only white people were about, he usually said 
Mars’ Emile,” — Now, Mars’ Emile, you always joke 
me bout dat little accident.” 

What accident ?” said Stanford. 

You see,” said Mingo, who always enjoyed telling 
the story, you see. Mars’ Emile he went on wid de 
boys to de front ob de battle, and he lef’ me behind in 
de tent dar to fry him a big chicken which I had cotch ; 
for, says he, ^ I’ll be monsus hungry, Mingo, when I 
come back.’ Dat’s what he said. 

Well, sir, dey was making such a noise and a racket 
wid dar guns and dar cannons close by, dat, for a fac’, 
I coulden’ hardly see how to fry dat chicken. But I 
got him fried for all dat, de puttiest you ever seed, I 
did; and jes’ as I was taking him up to keep him 
from getting burnt, here come one of dem great big 
bumbs a whizzin’ and a zizzin’ as it come, and it lit 
right down on dat tent and it went froo into de groun’, 
and it bust, sir, it did, and it blowed dat tent and 
everything in it into dust and ashes, for a fac’ !” 

Mingo threw his hands and arms wildly into the 
air, and then added, with a comical leer, And what 
you reckon, sir, somebody picked up ’bout forty foot 
ofP?” 

What was it, Mingo ?” 

“ It was dis nigger, for a fac’ !” 

There was a pause. 


11 


122 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

“Well, Mingo, go on,” said the colonel; “tell the 
rest of it.” 

“ Dat’s all,” said Mingo, emphatically. 

“No, it was not all,” said the colonel. “You took 
to your heels; you pitched into the woods; nothing 
could stop you.” 

“ What was de use. Mars’ Emile, ob me staying dar 
in de ashes, when I didn’ had no chicken to fry? How 
you know I didn’ go in dem woods to fin’ you anudder 
chicken, or to catch a rabbit for you, or sump’in?” 

“ Fiddlesticks, Mingo !” said the colonel ; “ you ran 
away like a race-horse, and we didn’t catch up with 
you until the next day, ten miles off !” 

“ And you wouldn’t ’a’ cotch up wid me den,” said 
Mingo, with a broad grin, “ if de Yankees hadn’t er 
made you run dat night faster den I did.” 

“ That’s a fact,” said the colonel ; “ the laugh has 
got over to yom’ side. We are even now. Drink the 
rest of that champagne, Mingo, to the repose of John 
Brown’s soul.” 

So the preparations go on. The Meissoniers are 
preparing for their cunning raid upon Ephraim Clarke’s 
treasury. Eose Villemaine is preparing her dynamite 
for the social destruction of her friend. Hugh Stan- 
ford is preparing to make his declarations to Ninette Du 
Valcourt. Ninette Du Valcourt is preparing the last 
throw of the fairy-net which shall land the dallying 
victim at her feet. Destiny, invisible, regardless of 
human hopes or fears, is preparing incredible surprises 
for them all. 


MODERN MAGIC. 


123 


CHAPTER IX. 

MODEKN MAGIC. 

We must now penetrate into Dr. Hypolite Meis- 
soniePs upper room, above his electro-magnetic offices 
into his chamber of mysteries, where he held his hyp- 
notic s6anceSy and wove at will the dark threads of 
cunning thought into the web of human lives. 

It was a heavily-carpeted room of moderate size. 
The carpet, the papering, the curtains, the furniture, 
were all in dark colors, black and red and old gold. 
A large antique bookcase with closed doors occupied 
nearly the whole space against one wall. The figure 
of an immense brown owl was perched upon its top. 
There were two windows on the side fronting the 
street, with panes of stained glass, through which a dim 
and strangely mutilated light struggled into the room. 
Un the black marble mantel were two finely executed 
figures bound together by a bronze chain. They were 
called Sleep and his brother Death. On a small centre- 
table, supported on gilded panther’s feet and covered by 
a blood-red cloth, lay a single article, — ^the small, pol- 
ished, ivory-colored skull of a child. Near it was a 
curiously covered chair, heavily cushioned and tilted 
back, in which the hypnotic victims were placed for 
experiment. A large, very wide sofa stood in the cor- 
ner. The whole atmosphere of the place was calculated 


124 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

to plunge one into a delicious languor or a magical 
sleep. 

It was the middle hour of the morning, when Dr. 
Meissonier was always out visiting his patients. It 
was a very bright day, but the chamber of mysteries 
was densely shaded. The curtains were so drawn that 
objects were scarcely visible. The hypnotic chair was 
unoccupied. On the sofa in the corner two human 
figures were vaguely outlined. They were Hilary 
Dupont and Lucia Meissonier. He was hypnotized; 
she was the hypnotizer. She was the magician ; he the 
victim. 

You love me, and you love me only,” commanded 
the woman. 

I love you, and I love you only,” echoed the man. 

“You will remember nothing whatever of what we 
have said and done,” commanded the magician. 

“ I will remember nothing whatever of what we have 
said and done,” responded the victim. 

At that moment the acute ear of the woman caught 
the sound of her own name echoing in some other 
chamber of the house. She sprang to her feet, com- 
manded Hilary into the hypnotic chair, drew back the 
bolts, raised the curtains, and took a little bundle from 
the drawer of a chiffonni^re; and, when Meissonier 
threw open the door with violence, she was standing 
before her subject in full light, questioning him coolly 
about the child. 

“ Thousand devils !” cried the doctor, in a tone of 
fury, “ what are you doing in here with Hilary Du- 
pont?” 

“Speak respectfully to me, sir, or not at all,” said 


MODERN MAGIC. 125 

the woman, proudly, the spirit of the old bull-fighter 
flashing in the eyes of his daughter. 

Pardon me, Lucia,^^ exclaimed the doctor, taking in 
what he conceived to be the situation, pardon me ; I 
have done you injustice.” 

Now you are yourself again,” responded the siren, 
the wiles of the ballet-dancer sporting about the lips of 
her child. 

You see,” she said, “ I have been exhibiting these 
little articles of dress which belonged to Mary Clarke, 
and trying to get Hilary to trace the child.” 

You labor in vain,” said Meissonier. I understand 
Dupont thoroughly. He has no organic aptitude for 
this work. He is a good clairvoyant for short distances 
and the present time, but he is incapable of going away 
back and reviving images which have been nearly ob- 
literated. For that delicate and yet powerful faculty, 
Cora Morette exceeds all others.” 

But we cannot go out of the family without in- 
curring danger or exciting suspicion.” 

True, and least of all to Cora Morette, who might 
read our own thoughts and expose us. Besides, I am sure 
she is working in the interest of that dangerous Chicago 
detective who is endeavoring to get upon our trail. 

^‘That reminds me,” he said; and, coming up to 
Hilary Dupont, he threw upon him some powerful mes- 
meric passes, that developed the trance within a trance 
upon him. He suddenly struck the young man forci- 
bly on the shoulder, and shouted in his ear, — 

^^See that black bull-dog bounding towards you. 
Look out for your legs ! You can’t budge an inch, and 
he will gnaw them into mince-meat.” 

11 * 


126 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

The poor fellow groaned faintly and struggled to 
move his feet, but in vain, while a clammy perspiration 
broke out on his face. 

The doctor turned to his wife, who had watched his 
proceedings with evident disgust. 

I came home thus early in order to tell you that I 
have found a woman who will make a splendid substi- 
tute for Gordon Clarke’s child.” 

^^ndeed?” 

^^Do you remember a young person named Lilly 
Montrose, over whom I once obtained a profound mes- 
meric control ?” 

I do,” said the lady, with a sudden lightening in 
her eyes, and she did you no credit. You remember, 
perhaps, that I forbade her the house.” 

N’importe .'” said the doctor, coolly shrugging his 
shoulders; ^^you will invite her to the house again. 
She is worth fifty thousand dollars to us now. She is 
at present acting leading parts at the Oriental Varieties. 
She is intelligent, self-possessed, and a wonderful mimic. 
She has just the right age and appearance. With your 
instructions she can personate the lost child to perfec- 
tion. Let us baptize her Mary Gilford Clarke and re- 
store her to her anxious friends and relatives ! Ha ! ha ! 
All parties will be made happier and some of us richer 
by the transaction.” 

Have you spoken to her on the subject ?” 

^^Of course not. I am to remain absolutely in- 
visible in this whole affair. It is your own scheme 
and your own business. I am merely giving you a 
friendly suggestion for carrying it ont.” 

Thank you. I will see Miss Montrose this very day.” 


MODERN MAGIC. 


127 


Turning suddenly to Hilary Dupont, who had been 
all this time moaning, perspiring, and struggling to 
move his limbs, Mrs. Meissonier angrily exclaimed, — 

Hypolite ! What a monster of cruelty you are ! 
Poor Hilary has been lying here all this time with your 
horrible illusion of the black dog fastened upon him 
“ It is only an illusion,’’ sneered the doctor. 

“ But you know it is real to him, and he suffers just 
as intensely as if the thing suggested was being done.” 

Let him suffer !” exclaimed the doctor, rudely 
pushing his wife aside when she attempted to make 
the contrary passes which cast off the mesmeric in- 
fluence. Let him suffer ! You are too sweet upon 
this young fellow, anyhow.” 

“ Hypolite ! Hypolite !” said the madame, in a 
reproachful tone. Then added, between her teeth, 
Cruel, cruel.” 

You are just as cruel as I am when it suits your 
purpose,” said the doctor, sternly. I have an object 
in view in this matter, and you had as well understand 
it at once. I dominate this young man absolutely, 
soul, body, and spirit.” 

^‘Yes,” interrupted the woman, ^^you have nearly 
obliterated his personality. He is growing more and 
more stupid, patient, and imbecile. He will soon have 
no spontaneity of thought or action.” 

‘^Exactly so,” said the doctor. ^‘1 command, he 
obeys. He is my tool, my automaton. I am pre- 
paring him for work. So soon as we get the reward 
for Mary Gilford Clarke, — ha ! ha ! Lilly Montrose, 
I mean, — Hilary, under hypnotic suggestion, will 
stick a knife into that Chicago detective, and arrest 


128 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


any further researches in my direction. Self-preserva- 
tion is the first law of nature. Hilary alone will suffer 
the consequences. We have discovered a new fine art, 
murder by proxy.” 

^^You surely would not immolate this poor, inno- 
cent boy in that manner,” said Lucia, with a look of 
horror. Where is your conscience ?” 

I have no conscience. Have you?” and he laughed 
mockingly in the face of the wretched woman. 

Oh, Hypolite, Hypolite !” said his wife, earnestly, 
seizing him by the arm, release this poor wretch from 
his horrible nightmare.” 

‘^Softly, ma cMre brunette,^’ said the magnetizer. 

Let me tell you the use of Hilary’s present suffer- 
ings. He will remember nothing of them when he 
awakes. If he did, he would fly from me : he would 
put the ocean between us. He will not remember, nor 
will he be afraid of me when he awakes ; but far down 
beneath the reach of his external consciousness I am 
creating an intense fear of me, a fear which will com- 
pel him to obey not only my words but my looks and 
my unspoken thoughts. I have other people also under 
as great control.” 

“ Horrible ! horrible !” muttered the woman. 

“ Oh, the thing has a bright side to it also,” said 
the doctor, smiling. A man can hypnotize a woman, 
and lead her at his own sweet will. He can plant his 
image so strongly upon her heart that nothing can ever 
efface it. When husbands learn this divine science, 
they will reduce their wives to a state of perfect, auto- 
matic obedience.” 

How about the wives ?” said the wife, sullenly. 


MODERN MAGIC. 


129 


Oh, the woman can acquire these sublime powers 
also. She can hypnotize a man and make him do 
what she wishes. She can say to him, ^ Love me, and 
love me only,’ and, though he will remember nothing 
of it when awake, he will regard all other women with 
indifference and would fight and die for this spiritual 
mistress.” 

Lucia cast her eyes upon the floor. A faint flush 
of rosy fire crept along the golden surface of her cheek. 
Meissonier did not notice it. She slowly lifted her lids 
and gazed far out of the window. 

Hypolite,” she inquired, sadly, without looking at 
him, did this cruel nature first develop in you after I 
persuaded you to enrich ourselves by the murder of 
Gordon Clarke?” 

Oh, no, ma belle rose ! the cause of my hard-hearted- 
ness and brutality dates farther back than that profitable 
transaction, which your juvenile genius suggested to me. 
I was no doubt cunning, cruel, and violent by heredity. 
There are flashes of these barbaric states in all men. 
But these qualities were nurtured and developed in the 
schools of science, in the vivisection-rooms of Paris, 
when I was a medical student. The slow cuttings, 
the burnings, the poisonings, the torturings of living, 
groaning, palpitating animals, those unevolved men 
and women, shocking and terrible at first, became 
familiar to us, -then excusable, then interesting, and 
finally, monstrous to relate, even amusing and fasci- 
nating ! Great God ! — if there be a God — how the 
human soul can become petrified and demonized ! 
justifying itself all the while in the names of science 
and humanity !” 


130 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


Suddenly the man,’ who had just confessed himself 
habituated to crime and destitute of conscience, turned 
to Hilary Dupont, and rapidly demagnetized him from 
the trance within a trance by a double series of passes, 
saying to him, Hilary, awake quietly and comforta- 
bly, and you will see and hear nobody in the room,” 
with a gentleness and tenderness of tone of which he 
had seemed hitherto incapable. 

Did he feel some twinges of remorse? or did the 
angel of his better nature descend invisibly and stir 
the waters of life ? 

The victim of these two magicians now slowly 
opened his eyes and looked languidly around, evi- 
dently unaware of the presence of his master and 
mistress. He stretched himself several times, and 
muttered, I feel as if I had been beaten nearly to 
death. My legs are terribly sore. I must have slept 
a long time. This business is undermining my health : 
I am so weak and timid and nervous. I wonder why 
Mrs. Meissonier left me alone.” 

He rose from the chair and passed slowly out of the 
room and down stairs into the office. 

He certainly did not see us,” said Mrs. Meissonier. 

‘^No, indeed,” said the doctor. ‘‘I have rendered 
people invisible to my subjects for many hours. This 
invisibility by hypnotic suggestion is an amazing phe- 
nomenon. I once hypnotized a shopkeeper who was 
alone in his store. I hypnotized Hilary Dupont, who 
was across the street, and made him come over to the 
store. I rendered him invisible to the shopkeeper, and 
made him rob all the drawers and put the money in 
my pocket. I then sent him back across the street and 


MODERN MAGIC. 


131 


waked him up at the point from which he had started. 
He never knew he had been in the store or committed 
the robbery. The shopkeeper had seen nothing of it, 
and was only conscious of having been conversing with 
me all the while. He never knew how he lost his 
money. That is what I call stealing by proxy, one of 
the fine arts of the future.^^ 

Let us drop that dangerous subject,” said his wife, 
and discuss the question of Lilly Montrose.” 

‘^Not now,” said the doctor; must hurry to see 
some patients.” 

When she thought her lord and master was several 
squares away, the pretty madame came softly into the 
office, where Hilary was reading. She stood beside 
his chair. He looked up timidly at her face. She 
regarded him with a tender expression. 

^^Ah, mon pauvre enfant/^ she said, stroking his long, 
black hair with her delicate hand. “ The doctor is very 
cruel to you.” 

And you are very kind,” he responded. 

Yes, I am very kind. Do you remember what the 
doctor does to you in the stances 

‘‘ Nothing whatever, madame.” 

‘^Do you never remember what you do in the stances, 
or are commanded to do ?” 

Never, madame.” 

I am so glad that you do not remember. You 
would be very unhappy.” 

The doctor is very cold and cruel to me also,” she 
added, with a little sigh. 

What a shame ! And you.so lovely ! Ah, madame, 
you are my grande consolation .^” 


132 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


She smiled ; he rose from his chair ; but she evaded 
his outstretched hand, and ran laughing out of the room. 

Coquette he exclaimed, toujours coquette.” 

It is a pity,” said Dr. Holden to Stanford one day, 
that people generally are not better informed about 
the great advances now being made in psychological 
science. Such knowledge would protect them from 
many illusions and impositions.” 

Illustrate your meaning,” said Stanford. 

An astonished visitor to a spiritual medium says, 
' She told me things which were known only to myself 
and God f There is nothing wonderful in that. Every 
thing known to yourself can be known to another who 
simply takes it from your own mind. The single fact of 
thought-reading can prick a thousand bubbles of false 
spiritualism and deliver us from its follies and fantasies, 
‘^Cora Morette prescribed for diseases with consider- 
able accuracy and learning. Outside of her trance con- 
dition she was utterly ignorant of all such things. The 
uninformed and superstitious thought the spirit of some 
deceased physician prescribed through her. I visited 
Cora Morette several times and studied her case. It 
was explained by thought-reading. The young drug- 
gist at her side was the unconscious fountain of her 
medical knowledge. I once took a patient of my own 
to her, for whom I was prescribing arsenic homoeo- 
pathically. Cora had never in her life prescribed ac- 
cording to that system, but, when she examined my 
patient, while I sat by in silence, having the thought 
reflected from my mind, she said, ^Arsenic en tr^-petite 
dose.’ 


MODERN MAQia 


133 


Again, an excited mother hears a medium, whom 
she has never seen before, describe her lost child in the 
most perfect manner, even to the minutest peculiarity 
of person and dress. The medium says that she hears 
the child speak, and delivers a cheering message to the 
mother, who weeps with joy, thinking she has received 
a veritable communication from the dead. It is a sheer 
fallacy, founded upon misunderstood appearances. 

For, think of it ! Charcot, Bernheim, and other 
scientists have produced precisely similar phenomena 
in their hypnotic seances. They make absent people, 
either living or dead, appear before their subjects and 
carry on long conversations with them. The phenom- 
enon resolves itself into a peculiar state of the nervous 
system, accidental, acquired, or imposed, mysterious be- 
cause we do not understand it, but susceptible, I am 
sure, of scientific solution.” 

“ Have you any hypothesis on the subject which can 
give the facts at least a provisional explanation ?” 

Every thought and imagination of the human 
mind, every object, every scene ever witnessed by 
every created being, all are ineffaceably registered and 
stamped upon what has been called the psychic ether, 
astral light, or spiritual atmosphere, where they exist 
like objects reflected in a mirror. The phenomena and 
laws of the impression, transmission, and reflection of 
images on the psychic ether are legitimate subjects for 
scientific study. The facts, reliable facts, are now being 
rapidly accumulated. 

^^Well, now,” continued the doctor, ^Hhe persons 
and scenes described by mediums are not real persons 
and scenes, but images or pictures of them seen in or 
12 


134 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

through the mind of some living persons. These re- 
flections seem living and real to the medium, whose 
opened faculties (and we all possess the same faculties 
in a closed or undeveloped state) enable him to look 
into the astral mirror. If he does not understand the 
philosophy of it, and not one in fifty of them does, he 
is self-deceived while he is deceiving others.^^ 

I am very well satisfied with your suggestions.” 

^^If these things were understood, an incident which 
occurred lately in a western city would no longer excite 
the incredulity of some people or the superstitious 
wonder of others. A lady just arrived from a distant 
State rented a house, having no knowledge of the pre- 
vious occupants. Soon after she took possession she 
saw, when wide awake, in one of the rooms, a coffin 
extended between two chairs. It contained the body 
of a young man, whose face she observed thoroughly 
before the appearance vanished. She sought the party 
who had just vacated the house, and was told that a 
young man exactly answering that description had died 
and been laid out in that room. It was no ghost, or 
spiritual visitation, or warning from the other world. 
The new-comer saw nothing but a reflected image upon 
the psychic ether of a scene which existed as a memory 
in the mind of the first occupant.” 

Doctor, do you believe that what are called spiritual 
phenomena have any genuine reach into the spiritual 
world which we enter after death ?” 

‘^I do not. So-called spiritual phenomena which can 
be subjected to our natural powers of analysis are in 
reality natural phenomena. They are only psychical 
demonstrations. They belong to the interior sphere or 


MODERN MAGIC. 135 

invisible side of nature. They have hitherto eluded 
discovery, or have been so feebly and partially mani- 
fested that they have been misunderstood and misin- 
terpreted. The human mind is now, however, upon 
the right track. The occult forces of nature — includ- 
ing the occult forces of the nervous system, — the rela- 
tions of mind to matter, of the different parts of the 
mind to each other, of one mind to another mind, and 
of the individual mind to the composite mind of the 
race — will be henceforth subjected to scientific study by 
scientific methods.” 

‘^Will natural science, doctor, ever give us any 
knowledge of the genuine spiritual world and its phe- 
nomena ?” 

Never, sir ! The spiritual and natural worlds are 
separated from each other by an impassable gulf, what 
Swedenborg calls a discrete degree, and are conjoined 
only by correspondence. ^ Spiritual things,’ said Paul, a 
grand old adept in these matters, ^ can only be spiritu- 
ally discerned.’ ” 

^^Then you do not believe that the spiritualists have 
ever given us any genuine communication from the 
dead?” 

I do not, sir. The golden gate which is opened 
by death has never been otherwise opened except by 
divine interposition.” 

Then is there no sure means of knowing anything 
about the real and eternal spiritual life ?” 

Only one means, sir, — Divine E-evelation.” 


136 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE CHILD LOOMS UP. 

Hugh Stanfoed repaired, the next Thursday morn- 
ing, according to appointment, to Mr. Denfield^s office, 
to meet the claimant of the fifty-thousand-dollar re- 
ward offered for the discovery of Gordon Clarke’s 
child. That magnificent offer had created great excite- 
ment among the detective gentry, and inquiries after 
children, lost or stolen in 1865, were pushed in all 
directions with great assiduity. 

The curious fact was brought to light that no less 
than seven little children had disappeared in New 
Orleans during that year of peace and reconstruction, 
not one of whom had been restored to its parents. The 
Charlie Rosses of the world are numerous. 

Henfield laid down his papers as Stanford entered, 
and said, smilingly, — 

I have an item of good news for our case. 

Jim, the office-boy, and I have turned detectives, 
and we have done pretty good amateur work. Jim 
went prying about old Madame Fortier’s premises, 
until he got acquainted with a little mulatto servant- 
girl who waits on the lady. From her he learned the 
very interesting fact that old Madame Fortier had by 
a first husband a son named Hr. Hypolite Meissonier, 
who came occasionally to see her. 


THE CHILD LOOMS UP, 


137 


Jim described tbe man with the gray head and the 
green goggles to the little girl, and asked if she had 
seen such a man. Yes, she let him in to see the 
madame on business one day last week. Did she see 
him go out? No. Did she see anybody go out a short 
while after? Yes, she saw Dr. Meissonier leave the 
house. ‘Now,’ said Jim, ‘Dr. Meissonier and green 
goggles is the same man.’ 

“ Very well,” continued Denfield, “ taking their iden- 
tity for granted, you see that Dr. Meissonier, ostensibly 
in the interest of another person, comes to my office, 
attracted by the fifty-thousand-dollar prize, and offers 
to produce the child of Gordon Clarke. Now, whoever 
had or took Gordon Clarke’s child at the beginning 
must have known something about the fate of the father. 
If not, and the child was honestly and charitably picked 
up on the street without knowledge of its father, why 
the necessity of any concealment? Meissonier’s dis- 
guise proves a guilty conscience. 

“ Jim having succeeded so well, I determined to visit 
Madame Fortier myself, and I scored another point 
and a strong one. I pretended to be a real-estate agent 
buying up property in the neighborhood. I found a 
very old lady, quite infirm, but very affable and com- 
municative, even to garrulity. 

“ Oh, no ! she couldn’t think of selling her property. 
That house and lot had been given to her by her dear 
son, her only son, Hypolite, twenty years before 
Hypolite was a good, generous boy. He drew the 
hundred-thousand-dollar prize in the Havana lottery 
that year. And he bought this house, and settled ten 
thousand dollars at interest on his old mother. She had 
12 * 


138 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


no occasion to sell anything. She had two good servants 
to wait on her, her own cow for milk, plenty of chickens 
for a fresh egg every day, a big bull-dog for night 
guard, a Maltese cat, a musical-box, a flower-garden, 

mocking-birds, canaries 

I don’t know how far her catalogue would have 
extended, but I interrupted her by asking her what 
became of Hypolite ?” 

“ ^ Oh,’ she said, ^Hypolite had just come from Paris, 
where he had spent the last cent of money his poor 
father — killed in the war, sir, killed at Shiloh — had 
given him. If we hadn’t driven that boy off* to Paris 
at the beginning of the war to get educated, he would 
have stayed and gone into the army, and been killed, 
too. Oh, but that lottery-prize was a godsend ! The 
poor boy had brought a wife home ! — think of such a 
thing ! — a mere child, but she was pretty as a blood-red 
rose and trh-gentile. They didn’t stay but a week or 
two, when Hypolite went off to get his prize. Then 
he returned to Europe, — dear me ! where was the use 
of it ? — but he stayed ten years, and made himself the 
great doctor he is now. He lives on St. Louis Street. 

You surelyTnust have heard of him ^ 

How,” said Denfield, after imitating the language 
and manner of the garrulous old woman to perfection, 
I have examined all the files of French and Spanish 
papers for that year, and find that no large prize what- 
ever was drawn from the Havana lottery during that 
period. The question is, where did Dr. Meissonier get 
his money ?” 

A question rapidly approaching solution,” said Stan- 
ford. I have also a little item to add to our budget. 


THE CHILD LOOMS UP. 


189 


“ My friend in Paris, to whom I wrote before I left 
Chicago, has replied to this effect : A medical student 
from New Orleans, named Hypolite Meissonier, gradu- 
ated at the University of Paris, medical department, 
April, 1865. He returned to New Orleans via Havana. 
He took with him a very young girl of great beauty, 
but wild and unmanageable, Lucia Esteva, who eloped 
with him from a boarding-school where she had been 
placed by her mother, a very gay lady connected with 
the stage.’^ 

We have good reason to suspect, I will not say be- 
lieve too hastily,” said the lawyer, that ‘ the young 
doctor and his beautiful wife,^ of Gordon Clarke’s letter, 
were Dr. Meissonier and his wife Lucia ; that Gordon 
Clarke perished in some manner in the old Frenchman’s 
saloon at the hands of Meissonier, who immediately 
disappeared ; that the great sum of money he soon after 
became possessed of was derived from Gordon Clarke’s 
valuables ; that Meissonier and his wife are now plot- 
ting another raid on the Clarke treasury, either by re- 
storing the child or palming off a substitute ; and that 
the Madame Maspero who will soon enter that door 
upon this errand is none other than the Lucia Esteva 
of the Paris boarding-school.” 

Do you think, Mr. Denfield, that there is any pros- 
pect of recovering the child ?” 

A very great prospect. It is altogether improbable 
that the child was murdered. Those who know what 
became of the father know what became of the child. 
They no doubt put it off into other hands, but it is 
very likely that the woman kept trace of it and knows 
where to find it. 


140 


A MrST^ISr OF JVFJV OFLFANS. 


“It is all-important, however,” added the lawyer, 
“ that they get no wind of our suspicions. The mur- 
derer would disappear in a flash, and the child would 
be lost forever.” 

A gentle rap or tap at the door, such as no masculine 
hand would give, warned the gentlemen that a lady 
visitor demanded admission. In reply to Denfield’s 
stentorian invitation to “ Come in,” a slender lady in 
black slowly opened the door, closed it behind her, and 
cast a quick, shy glance about the apartment. 

“Which of you gentlemen is Mr. Denfield?” she 
said, with a captivating smile, displaying a fine set of 
teeth guarded by exquisite lips. 

“I am Mr. Denfield,” said that gentleman, rising 
and ofiering her a chair. 

She took her seat gracefully, and laid a little bundle 
and her rose-red, gold-tipped parasol on the table before 
her. After a moment’s hesitation, she spoke, in a de- 
cidedly cultivated manner and with a little trepidation 
in her very sweet voice which added to its charm, — 

“ I am Madame Lucia Maspero, and I come, at the 
instance of my friend Mr. Pierre Gentilly, to confer 
with you on a little matter of business.” 

Here she looked a moment at Mr. Stanford, and 
then turned inquiringly to Mr. Denfield. 

“ You can speak out freely before this gentleman,” 
said Denfield. “ He is the party most deeply interested 
in this matter.” 

She lifted her soft brown eyes to Stanford’s face, and 
turned her whole park of artillery upon that young 
gentleman ; thinking to herself, “ I wonder if he is a 
relative of Gordon Clarke ?” He must have received 


THE CHILD LOOMS UP. 


141 


a profound impression, for his own reflection was this : 

What an astonishingly fine-looking woman she is 
My friend Mr. Gentilly,’^ she said, quietly, “ called 
my attention to an advertisement offering a very large 
reward for the production of Mary Gilford Clarke, who 
was lost in this city in June, 1865, at the age of two 
years. As I happened to pick up a little girl of that 
name and of that age on Chartres Street exactly at 
that time, I thought it might be to our mutual interests 
if I called upon you and told my story.” 

She here paused, and, whether from natural modesty 
or timidity, seemed a little disconcerted at the four 
masculine eyes fixedly bent upon her. 

Mr. Denfield hastened to her rescue by saying, in a 
quiet, lawyer-like way, — 

I am truly glad you have called, madame, and I 
sincerely hope you will be able to substantiate a claim 
to this immense reward. Now, please begin at the be- 
ginning, and tell us coolly, in your own time and your 
own way, just what happened, how and where you 
found the child, what you did with it, and anything 
you may know about her.” 

Stanford edged his chair a little nearer, as one does 
when about to hear a story in which he is deeply in- 
terested. Denfield reached out for a tablet and pencil, 
and sat like a reporter about to take notes. 

Putting her left elbow upon the table, and shading 
her eyes with the taper fingers of a very pretty hand, 
not destitute of rings, she cleared her voice with a 
little delicate hem, and began. 

‘^Late in the evening of the 20th of June, 1865, I 
visited a friend boarding at the Hbtel des Strangers. 


142 MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

I did not start to return home until it was very dark 
and the gas was lit. The streets were quite crowded, 
as there were a great many strangers and returning 
soldiers in the city. I hurried along Chartres Street 
afraid to be out so late, although my residence was 
only a few squares away. 

As I was passing a milliner’s store a little above 
the cathedral, I heard a child crying piteously, and 
saw two ladies of the establishment and an old gentle- 
man attempting to console her. 

^ What is the matter ?’ I inquired. 

^ This little one is lost,’ said one of the ladies, ^ and 
we can get nothing out of her except that her name is 
Mary.’ 

^^^It would be best,’ said the old gentleman, ^to 
take her to the nearest station-house. Her parents can 
easily find her there. Indeed, the station-house is the 
first place to inquire for a lost child.’ 

looked down at the frightened creature, the 
blue eyes and the little face full of tears. I was 
touched with pity. I offered to take charge of the 
child, gave them my husband’s address, and asked 
them to send any one inquiring for the child to my 
residence. I also promised to leave word at a station- 
house which I passed on the way home where the child 
could be found, and to advertise for her friends in the 
morning papers. All this I did : no response was ever 
received, no friends ever called, and so I kept the 
child.” 

A truly sweet and charitable deed,” said Stanford. 

The lady smiled upon him in grateful appreciation 
of the compliment. 


THE CHILD LOOMS UP. 


143 


Did you preserve a copy of your advertisement in 
the morning papers?^’ inquired the lawyer, without 
looking up from his writing. 

Oh, no ! I never thought of such a thing.’’ 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, quietly. “The pro- 
prietors always keep files of their papers for every 
year, and, as you have given us the exact date, we can 
find it in a few minutes. It will prove that you did 
not steal the child.” 

Madame Maspero gave a little start in her seat, and 
the lawyer looked up to her face in time to observe the 
fact that a gentle shade of pallor had whitened its rich 
brunette. She felt that she had made a mistake, and 
was likely to be caught in a falsehood, and she hastened 
to say, — 

“ I do not know positively, sir, that the advertise- 
ment was ever printed. I sent it to the papers that 
night by a little servant-girl, and thought no more 
about it.” 

Mr. Denfield kindly respected the little loop-hole 
which madame had extemporized for her escape, and 
did not press the matter. He looked, with a bland, 
inquiring smile, at the little bundle on the table, and 
remarked, — 

“ Perhaps you have preserved some little relics of 
the child which will assist in verifying your statements. 
Individually, madame, I would accept your own words 
without question, but legally I represent persons who 
will require ample proof before they part with such a 
great sum of money, or receive a stranger into their 
circle as a lost relative.” 

“ The parties you represent, sir, are unquestionably 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


144 

right in the requirements they make. In affairs of this 
magnitude the most thorough examinations and cross- 
examinations are necessary.’’ 

She looked as if she would have been a Portia at 
the bar. 

She then slowly opened her little bundle and dis- 
played a child’s white dress, old and faded, a little 
coral necklace with a gold clasp, a small pair of shoes, 
and a little, red-bound, gilt-edged prayer-book in the 
Spanish language. 

Madame Maspero called attention to the letters M. 
G. C. worked into the waistband of the dress and 
engraved upon the gold part of the necklace. 

These articles,” she said, were on the person of 
the child when I took her to my house. I have all 
the other articles of her dress, but thought it sufficient 
to bring these as samples. Fifty more pieces could 
prove no more than is proved by these two little 
articles with the child’s initials worked upon them.” 

The gentlemen nodded assent to the reasonableness 
of that proposition. 

It seemed strange to me,” continued the brunette 
beauty, “ that a little lost child should hold clasped in 
her hand a prayer-book in the Spanish language. I 
presumed that she had accompanied her mother to 
church, had begged to hold the volume, as children 
often do, and then got separated in the crowd from the 
mother or was abandoned by her. 

Of course I thought the owner of the book was a 
Spanish lady, and was surprised, on opening it, to find 
upon the blank leaf a very common American name. 
It established, however, the identity of the child.” 


THE CHILD LOOMS UP. 


145 


She passed the little volume, opened at the blank 
leaf in front, to Mr. Denfield, who read aloud, — 

“ Ellen Gilford Clarke, 

San Jose, Costa Kica, May 2, 1864. 

“ Bought on the first birthday of our dear little Mary." 

Stanford examined the articles carefully, especially 
the pale writing upon the faded blank leaf of the book. 
He seemed profoundly and painfully impressed. 

These,” he said, ^^are truly relics of the little family 
which lived in San Jos4, Costa Eica, in 1864. Mary, 
the daughter, was born there in May, 1863. Mrs. 
Clarke, the mother, was named Ellen Gilford. The 
child was named Mary Gilford. The family moved 
from Central America to Jamaica in the fall of that 
year, aud thence to Havana. These articles prove, 
madame, beyond doubt, that the child you so kindly 
sheltered was the daughter of Gordon Clarke.” 

Madame Maspero rewarded this declaration of opinion 
with an approving nod and a smile of singular beauty. 
That smile is indescribable. It was the smile of fas- 
cination which few women can manufacture. Stanford 
took it all to himself, and could not imagine that any 
part of. the brilliant favor was designed for Denfield. 
That gentleman^s face was as impassive as an Indian’s. 
He took no notice of Madame Lucia’s smile (he hdd 
a beautiful wife at home) and made no comments on 
the proofs, but said, quietly, — 

Now, go on, if you please, and tell us the fate of 
the child.” 

‘^In that regard,” she answered, in a deprecating 
tone, ^^I hold myself much to blame. I confess that 
Q k 13 


146 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


I grew weary of the child. She was self-willed and 
unmanageable, or at least I had not the tact to manage 
her. My husband was impatient with her and became 
anxious to get rid of her. We finally gave her in the 
charge of a respectable colored family in the neigh- 
borhood. I did not lose sight of her, however, and 
frequently dropped in to see her. After a while she 
went to the public schools and received quite a good 
primary education. She was then apprenticed to a 
milliner, and grew up to be a handsome, stylish, dressy 
young woman.” 

Handsome, stylish, and dressy !” exclaimed Stan- 
ford, in a startled kind of way, as if he scented danger 
in the air. 

Most milliners are stylish and dressy. It is their 
business. Why should that alarm you, sir ?” 

Stanford subsided, feeling that he had made a faux 
pas. 

Madame Maspero,” said Denfield, very seriously, 
can you bring the colored woman to whom you first 
intrusted her, and the milliner to whom she was after- 
wards apprenticed, to confirm your words, so as to 
make a perfect chain of evidence from the child’s in- 
fancy to her womanhood, and can you produce that 
identical person ?” 

^^All this I can do,” said the woman, firmly and 
positively, and will do on the day you appoint.” 

Then your fifty-thousand-dollar check is in 
sight.” 

The lady smiled sweetly and her brown eyes sparkled 
brightly. 

Where at present,” said Stanford, ^^is this child of 


THE CHILD LOOMS UP. 


147 


misfortune, so soon to become a child of fortune, — this 
Mary Gilford Clarke 

^^She grew tired of the milliner’s,^’ said the madame, 
^^and, after a brief period of honest struggle, she found 
an adequate field for her talents upon the stage.” 

The stage ?” cried Stanford, in genuine dismay. 

Why not the stage, sir ? Is it necessary to sup- 
pose, sir, that every theatrical life is one of questionable 
propriety ?” 

By no means, madame, by no means,” he hastened 
to declare ; but you must confess it is a very trying 
situation to a handsome, young woman who has no 
family associations to enfold and protect her.” 

Lilly Montrose, I assure you, sir, has proved her- 
self quite equal to the occasion.” 

And who,” said Denfield, naively, is Lilly Mon- 
trose ?” 

Clarke, you know,” said the lady in black, ^Gs too 
ordinary a name to put upon the handbills. Mary 
Clarke never could have attracted. Fancy names are 
all the style, and this young lady is so pleased with 
Lilly Montrose that she has adopted it altogether.” 

Where is she playing now ?” inquired Stanford. 

^^At the Oriental Varieties,” said the Maspero, with 
a little lowering of her voice. 

Oriental Varieties!” said Denfield, looking gravely 
at Stanford ; quite an unpleasant revelation for her 
uncle, the Chicago millionaire.” 

^^On reflection,” said Stanford, ^'what more could 
have been expected? A child abandoned in the streets 
of a great city ! Much worse might have happened. 
Careful cultivation in some first-class eastern school 


148 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

will bring the young woman out amazingly. Any 
unpleasant portions of her career may be effectually 
concealed.^^ 

Unpleasant portions of many a woman’s career 
have been effectually concealed/’ said the madame, in 
a tone almost suggestive of a personal experience. 

Then she added, in a very firm and decided manner, — 

“ But, concealed or not, liked or not, acceptable or 
not, it does not matter. The facts remain the same. 
Mary Gilford Clarke can be restored to her friends, if 
they really want to get possession of her.” 

She rose to her feet, as much as to say, My part of 
the conference is ended, and you can do as you please.” 

You have made out a very strong case so far,” said 
Denfield. I would like to keep those little articles 
until we meet again in a few days.” 

The madame expressed a little surprise at that re- 
quest, but, after a moment’s reflection, gave her bundle 
into Denfield’s hands. 

^^May I beg you,” said Stanford, in his politest 
manner, ^^to secure me a lock of Miss Montrose’s hair. 
I wish to compare it microscopically with some of the 
little Clarke girl’s hair which I have in my possession.” 

His real intention was to submit it to Cora Morette’s 
psychometrical analysis. 

Certainly,” said the lady, smiling ; and if this 
young woman is the great heiress I suppose her to be, 
you will soon be wanting another lock of her hair for 
a different purpose.” 

Stanford merely smiled, and said, Send it to this 
office in a sealed envelope, care of Mr. Denfield.” 

Now,” said the lawyer, I wish to make an ap- 


THE CHILD LOOMS UP. 


149 


pointment. This day week, at this hour, I shall ex- 
pect you here, bringing with you Miss Lilly Montrose, 
the colored woman, the milliner, Mr. Pierre Gentilly, 
and any other persons you may find who can corrobo- 
rate the evidence you adduce.’’ 

Can’t Mr. Pierre Gentilly be left out of that list?” 
said the woman, a little anxiously. The old man is 
infirm, and doesn’t like such errands.” 

No,” said Denfield, positively, I was very much 
struck by the old gentleman’s appearance. I need a 
man of his age and respectability to substantiate your 
character, as well as to witness your receipt of the im- 
mense sum which will be paid you. Then we will 
take Miss Lilly Montrose under our protection, to pre- 
pare her for the brilliant career which will open before 
her.” 

Mrs. Lucia Maspero bowed gracefully and retired, 
discharging a farewell salute from her sparkling brown 
eyes upon Mr. Hugh Stanford. That young gentle- 
man, drawn by the unconscious fascination of her 
presence, escorted her to the door and accompanied her 
along the hall to the elevator, where she parted from 
him with a charming au revoir. Peturning to the 
office he found Denfield carefully examining the soles 
of the little shoes with a magnifying-glass. 

^^Well, I declare!” he said, ^^what do you expect 
to find there ? Names are never stamped upon soles !” 

It is sometimes necessary,” said Denfield, solemnly, 
as he returned the little shoes to the bundle, for law- 
yers to institute very minute inspections.” 

These relics,” said Stanford, ^^may be of great 
service at Cora Morette’s.” 

13 * 


150 


A MFSTEEF OF FFfF OFLFAJVS. 


the by/^ said Denfield, smiling, ^^has your 
witch of Endor called up any more spirits for you 

I am prosecuting my affair through my clairvoy- 
ant,^^ said Stanford, sturdily, ^^in the most scientific 
manner, and the results are becoming more and more 
valuable/^ 

^^Starkie on Evidence,^’ said the lawyer, ^^is my 
text-book on proof, but I really would like to know 
something of the nature of the proof you get by hyp- 
notic procedures/^ 

You believe in thought-reading, do you not?” 

I have read or heard enough about it to believe in 
its possibility.” 

Well, if you could read the thoughts of a thief or 
a murderer, would you not get the facts of the case 
much more perfectly than you ever could from human 
or circumstantial evidence ?” 

Of course,” said the lawyer ; but are you not 
verging upon the impossible, the incredible ?” 

You just admitted that thought-reading was possi- 
ble. Now you fall back upon the old superstition that 
none can read thoughts but God. Science has developed 
thought-reading as a fact. Bishop’s wonderful perform- 
ances were only the first letter of a new alphabet. The 
time is coming when the question will be, can any thought 
be concealed ?” 

You astonish me, you confound me. I don’t be- 
lieve it.” 

Yery well. Cora Morette is a powerful clairvoy- 
ant, thought- or mind-reader. She has been brought, 
through the agency of certain relics, into rapport with 
the mind of Gordon Clarke, not as it now is, some- 


THE CHILD LOOMS UP. 


151 


where in the spiritual world, but as it was at the time 
he wrote that letter. We expect no revelation from 
Gordon Clarke’s ghost as to what became of him. 
The ghost of Hamlet’s father was a superstition. All. 
ghosts are superstitions !” 

How can Cora Morette get what became of Gordon 
Clarke out of his mind as it was before his sudden dis- 
appearance, unless he foresaw what was going to happen 
to him ?” 

She does not get it out of his own mind, but from 
the registered images in the minds of those about him. 
Studying the pictured ideas in Gordon Clarke’s mind, 
she sees a man and a woman, whom we now believe to 
be Dr. Meissonier and his wife, who are thinking about 
Gordon Clarke, plotting against him, especially how to 
get possession of valuables contained in his baggage, 
two trunks, which she sees and describes perfectly.” 

How can she read the thoughts of one mind in and 
through another mind ? That seems to me doubly 
miraculous.” 

^^And it is very simple. Thought is just as sub- 
stantial as light. It is just as real as color, and far 
more durable. There are laws of spiritual optics pre- 
cisely corresponding to the laws of physical optics. 
How does a lady dressing her own hair see the back 
of her head ? She cannot see it in the mirror in front 
of her. She holds a second mirror behind her at a 
certain angle, and the back of the head is reflected 
from it, so that, looking only into the first mirror, she 
sees also the second mirror and its contained image. 
This process of what may be called thought-reading 
by reflection might be extended, through a chain of 


152 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

properly adjusted mental mirrors or human minds, 
back for a hundred years/’ 

You take away my breath with these psychological 
surprises. You unsettle my practical beliefs, disturb 
my time-honored opinions, distract my legal senses. 
You will give me headache, indigestion, it may be 
delirium,” said Den field, laughing. 

I offer you the antidote to all the miseries of igno- 
rance and superstition, — the Light of Truth.” 


LOVE IN THE CATHEDRAL. 


153 


CHAPTEE XL 

LOVE IN THE CATHEDRAL. 

One cannot paint a map of Louisiana on his finger- 
nail. Neither can one in a single volume do justice 
to the charms and graces of Ninette Du Valcourt, 
moving in her sweet round of womanly duties and 
pleasures. The reader will get only a bird’s-eye view, 
and he must apply the microscope of his own imagina- 
tion for the minute beauties of detail. 

Hugh Stanford, having obtained Colonel Du Val- 
court’s formal permission, had paid more assiduous 
attentions to the lovely object of his affections. They 
had enjoyed some pleasant conferences without the 
presence of that third element which is so pitiably de 
trop in love-making. Jackson Square, the place of 
their first meeting, was a favorite resort. Stanford 
would sit in the shade on the benches and read his 
papers, or watch the pretty babies, somebody’s dar- 
lings, pushed along in their little carriages by their 
white-capped nurses, while Ninette paid a visit to old 
Lethe in the Pontalba Buildings. Old Mammy” re- 
ceived a good deal of attention about that time, espe- 
cially as she had been quite melancholy ever since 
her painful interview with Eose Villemaine, of which 
Ninette knew nothing. 

One morning Ninette, having made a lengthier call 


154 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 

than usual on her colored protegie^ apologized to her 
suitor for having detained him so long. 

I found dear old Lethe in a great state of excite- 
ment. She had just received a letter from her only 
child, a daughter who went away north nearly twenty 
years ago, and whom she supposed to be dead. The 
joy that she is living is dashed by the sad news that 
she is in a rapid consumption. She wishes to come 
home to die in our great Charity Hospital, but there is 
fortunately a vacant room next to Lethe’s. I have 
engaged it for her, and the poor creature shall receive 
every attention and consolation to the end.” 

Little did Ninette dream of the shadow which was 
waiting for her in that very room ! 

The happy couple walked about the beautiful 
grounds, admiring the great variety of flowers and dis- 
cussing the light questions of the day. The grim old 
hero of New Orleans, personification of invincible re- 
solve, sat immovable upon his rearing charger, military 
cap in hand. The high uplifted cross upon the grand 
cathedral looked down upon the scene with silent bene- 
diction. Steamers and sloops and tugs and ferry-boats 
swarmed up and down and across the great river in 
sight. Innumerable noises vibrated around them, but, 
absorbed in each other, the lovers exchanged thoughts 
as quietly and dreamily as if they were rambling side 
by side in the depths of the green forest. 

Presently Stanford led his companion through the 
iron gate of the square, and, crossing Chartres Street, 
they passed down the wide paved alley which runs be- 
tween the cathedral and the old court-rooms of Spanish 
construction. 


LOVE IN THE CATHEDRAL. I55 

He goes safely,” said Stanford, who walks obedi- 
ently, as we are now doing, between the two great un- 
progressives, the Church and the Law.” 

‘‘Unprogressive,” said Ninette, quickly, “only be- 
cause they are founded upon fixed and unchangeable 
principles of truth and justice. The perfect is always 
unprogressive. It is we who progress by coming 
into clearer knowledge of it and more vital relations 
to it.” 

“ That sounds Bostonian,” said Stanford, smiling. 

“ It is Catholic,” rejoined Ninette. 

They had arrived at a side door of the cathedral. 

“ Let us go in,” said Stanford. 

It is a beautiful custom of the Catholic church to 
keep some door always open and some light always 
burning, so that the stranger or the wayfarer may pass 
suddenly from the noise and tumult of the world into 
the nearer presence of God, where he may listen to the 
still, small voice, which is forever speaking, even when 
unheard, within us all. 

Ninette bowed and made the sign of the cross as she 
entered the sacred edifice. All the other doors were 
closed, and the lofty, deeply-stained windows cast the 
traditional “ dim, religious light” over the place. Two 
or three penitents were kneeling with bowed heads near 
the altar, but all the rest of the solemn and shadowy 
area was deserted. The silent couple trod reverently 
up the side aisle to the marble pavement which runs 
across the front of the church. When she reached the 
central aisle leading down towards the grand altar, 
Ninette kneeled in prayer. 

Stanford waited silently behind her with folded arms. 


156 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


When she arose, he conducted her to the head of the 
other side aisle which leads down to the altar of the 
Blessed Virgin. A profound twilight pervaded the 
spot, deepened by the gallery above them and the im- 
mense pillars which supported it. No one was near. 
No sound was audible save the noises of the street, 
sounding like the far-off roar of the sea. Immediately 
behind them was the sombre confessional of Father 
Mignot, with its dark-brown curtains, where perhaps 
Ninette had often confessed the peccadillos which her 
tender conscience had magnified into sin. 

The priestess herself of another shrine, she stood 
there in her chaste and modest beauty, not knowing 
that she was about to receive the confessions of a de- 
voted heart, and to listen to a few words which would 
change the whole current of her life. 

Miss Du Valcourt,’^ began Stanford, in an earnest 
tone, which startled her maidenly instincts at once. 
Miss Du Valcourt, on the day I first saw you in 
Jackson Square and followed you into this building, 
and, standing on this precise spot, watched your figure 
kneeling at that altar, a sentiment took root in my heart 
which has been growing more and more vigorous, until 
I can no longer suppress or conceal it.’^ 

He had drawn nearer to her in the shadow of the 
pillar, and was speaking in a low, tender, almost trem- 
bling tone. She interrupted him in a subdued but 
agitated voice. 

^^Oh, please, Mr. Stanford, do not mention these 
personal matters here in the house of God.” 

Where could I speak of them more appropriately ?” 
he fervently exclaimed. The sentiments I avow may 


LOVE IN THE CATHEDRAL. 


157 


declare themselves unabashed in the presence of the 
Blessed Virgin, or at the foot of the grand altar, or in 
the holy shadow of the mother church/^ 

He took her hand in his; she did not withdraw 
it. She lowered her head and turned her face away, 
tremulous and blushing. He continued, in a gentle, 
impressive manner : 

The genuine love of an honest heart for a pure and 
noble woman deserves especially the consecration of the 
spiritual powers.^’ 

^^Oh, my dear sir,^’ she said, faintly, ^^this is so 
sudden — in such a strange place — please let us go 

No,” he said, firmly ; this is the best of all places. 
Marriage is a holy sacrament of your church. It is 
customary and proper to celebrate it there at the altar 
of Christ. How can it be wrong for two souls to avow 
their love and pledge their fidelity to one another in the 
presence of these heavenly, invisible witnesses ?” 

Your words overcome me,” she said, gently : ^^your 
sentiments are so beautiful, but ” 

Your father,” said Stanford, earnestly, has ap- 
proved in advance the declaration I now make you. 
Do you acquiesce in your father’s sentiments ?” 

I have ever been obedient to his wishes.” 

Then seal the union of our hearts with a kiss.” 

Oh, no !” she sighed, rather than said, no, no ! — 
not here — not now — let us go.” 

At least,” he said, persuasively, detaining her gently, 
give me a warm pressure of your hand as an affirm- 
ative sign.” 

She clasped his hand firmly, and looked bravely and 
fondly into his eyes. He drew her close to him. Her 
14 


158 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

head fell softly against his left shoulder, and he im- 
printed a fervent kiss upon her lips. 

Let us go she said, starting away ; and they 
passed behind the pews and down the aisle as they came, 
and then out into the unsympathetic glare of the world. 

Do not accompany me home now,^^ she said, trem- 
ulously. 

May I call you Ninette,” he whispered. 

Certainly,” was the faint response. 

Farewell, Ninette, for a few hours.” They parted, 
but each turned again instinctively towards the other. 

Therewith they pledged and spoke to each other with 
their eyes. 

My own Ninette !” said Hughes. 

Hugh ! au revoir,^’ said Ninette’s. 

What a happy parting ! Under what changed con- 
ditions was the next meeting ! 

On his way up town, it suddenly occurred to Stan- 
ford that he would interview Miss Lilly Montrose be- 
fore she appeared at the lawyer’s office as claimant of 
Gordon Clarke’s estate. He found the Oriental Varie- 
ties (it might as well have been called the Occidental) 
an immense bar-room, full of chairs and tables, with a 
little stage at one end. The drop-curtain, bearing a 
rude picture of Venus rising from the sea, was down, 
and a noisy rehearsal seemed about winding up be- 
hind it. 

In the daytime this place is comparatively dark and 
deserted, only a few tippling habitues dropping in ; but 
in the evening it becomes resplendent with electric 
lights. The tables are crowded with young men and 
old men, detained down town by business, you know ; 


LOVE IN THE CATHEDRAL. 


159 


waited upon by young ladies gaudily dressed, per- 
fumed, and rouged, cunning adepts in all the arts of 
enticement. 

Amid the hubbub of clinking glasses, rushing feet, 
and merry voices, the music of a small orchestra rises 
and falls, and, observed or unobserved, a little drama, 
spiced always with dancing, is enacted on the stage, 
which is provided with foot-lights, trap-doors, shifting 
scenes, and all the machinery for startling effects. To 
this humble theatrical world Miss Lilly Montrose was 
leading tragedienne, comedienne, and premiere danseuse 
all in one. 

Stanford obtained the actress’s address from a fat, 
chalky-faced young gentleman standing behind the 
counter, arrayed in spotless linen and a red neck-tie. 
Before they had finished speaking, a large, gray parrot 
with a red tail, the best species for talking, called out 
hilariously from his gilded cage, What’ll you drink ? 
What’ll you drink ?” — a phrase which he had acquired 
from the vivacious young ladies who nightly beautified 
the establishment. Without responding to the question 
of the bird, Stanford passed out of the door, very much 
afraid that some friend passing by might see him 
emerging from this combination show-room of Venus 
and Bacchus. 

The house on Bienville Street illuminated by the pres- 
ence of Miss Lilly Montrose had “ Furnished Rooms” 
emblazoned on the front door. A tidy, good-looking, 
young quadroon woman ushered him, not without a 
little curious inspection, into a medium-sized parlor, 
gaudily furnished, and superabundantly supplied with 
cheap bric-a-brac. Bouquets of fiowers shone forth 


160 


A MYSTERY OF JVEJY ORLEANS. 


here and there in the room, floral offerings, no doubt, 
at the shrine of Miss Lilly’s dramatic genius. 

The visitor had seated himself reflectively on a red 
plush sofa only a few minutes, when the young actress 
glided rustling in, her auburn hair bewitchingly di- 
shevelled down her back, her full lips smiling, and her 
large blue eyes sparkling with health and pleasure. 
She wore a crimson skirt and a loose white sack much 
embroidered, and very open at the neck to display a 
white throat and a brilliant circlet of mock diamonds. 
Her presence was captivating, and her handsome face 
had but one defect, — a slightly turned-up nose gave 
more piquancy than beauty to her facial expression. 

Extending her left hand, positively radiant with 
rings, in a friendly manner to Stanford, who had risen 
and bowed with the utmost dignity, she said, — 

Pray be seated, sir ; and excuse my deshabille. I 
have just come in from rehearsal, and would not detain 
you for special elaboration. I am accustomed to the 
free and easy ways of you gentlemen of the press.” 

I am not connected with the press,” said Stanford, 
gravely. 

No ? How singular ! I expected to be inter- 
viewed.” 

You are accustomed to interviews?” 

Oh, yes ; viewed, reviewed, and interviewed, that’s 
my life !” said the lady, archly. 

I beg the liberty. Miss Montrose, of asking you a 
few questions, and hope you will believe I am not 
prompted by idle curiosity.” 

Her face was now thoroughly sobered by the serious- 
ness of Stanford’s manner, and, assuming the attitude 


LOVE IN THE CATHEDRAL. Igl 

of a young lady about to have her photograph taken, 
she said, “ Certainly, sir ; I am all attention/^ 

Do you know where you were born he asked. 
What an extraordinary question T she said, burst- 
ing out into little ripples of laughter ; but she suddenly 
checked herself, as if something very serious had occurred 
to her mind, and, looking intently at Stanford, she con- 
tinued, gravely, And my answer to it is still more ex- 
traordinary. I do not know where I was born. Few 
people can say that V’ 

“ Who were your parents ?” 

I have no knowledge of my parentage. I was a 
waif, sir.” 

“ What are your first recollections ? or, rather, what 
are your earliest reminiscences ?” 

“My earliest recollections, sir, are of living with 
some colored folks, who did not treat me very well, 
and who transferred me to a milliner’s shop, where I 
was treated worse. I have had a hard life of it, sir.” 

“ It seems to have a good deal of the couleur de rose 
in it at present,” suggested the gentleman. 

“ The rose is a fading flower, sir,” said Lilly, with 
more feeling in the tone of her voice than he had 
believed her capable of exhibiting. 

“Were you always called Lilly Montrose?” 

“Oh, no, sir. That is only my stage name. The 
negroes called me Mary Clarke, — why, I don’t know. 
It was a poor name for stage effect, and so I changed 
it to Lilly Montrose. Don’t you think it pretty ?” 

Stanford nodded to her question, and inquired, “Are 
you acquainted with Madame Maspero ?” 

“Yes, indeed, sir. That woman has always pro- 
I 14 * 


162 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


fessed to know all about my origin, and to have proofs 
of it in her possession. I don^t know what to think 
of it.’^ 

Have you seen her lately 

Not for many weeks, sir.” 

This conversation was carried on with such apparent 
naivete and truthfulness on Lilly’s part that Stanford 
could not bring himself to suspect that the young girl 
had entered into collusion with Madame Maspero. He 
gave it up in his own mind that the daughter of poor 
Gordon Clarke had been discovered in this indiscreet 
and uncultivated genius. 

He suddenly looked her full in the face and said, — 

^^Miss Montrose, if you should come unexpectedly 
into a great fortune, what would you do with it ?” 

La ! what a supposition !” she said, laughing and 
looking up at the ceiling. “ How preposterous !” 

That does not answer my question.” 

^^Well, let me see;” and she proceeded to count her 
intentions upon her fingers : I would buy me a lot 
of real diamonds ; I would take lessons in acting of 
the best performers ; I would out-dress Langtry ; I 
would out-play Mary Anderson ; I would board at 
the Hotel Royal; I would spend my summers at Long 
Branch ” 

You would be exceedingly happy, no doubt,” said 
Stanford, interrupting this catalogue of her prospective 
felicities. 

You bet !” she cried, snapping her fingers. 

He rose to take his leave. 

Oh, do not go so soon !” said the young actress, 
effusively, throwing back her dishevelled hair with 


LOVE IN THE CATHEDRAL. 163 

a graceful movement. “I am quite at leisure this 
morning.” 

Stanford pleaded the conventional excuse, important 
business. 

^^Then, good-by,” she said, squeezing his hand. 

Come and see me again. You can view me, whether 
you interview me or not. And, if you have a chance, 
drop into the Oriental this evening, and see me dance 
the Cracovienne. It is perfectly splendid !” 

He hastened out of the house. When he got into 
the street, he muttered, “ O the irony of fate ! When 
Gordon Clarke was murdered, why did they spare his 
child?” 

The child” had run to the window, and was look- 
ing after Stanford through the slats of the shutter. 

“The minute that fellow asked me where I was born, 
I guessed he had come to pump me on that Maspero 
business. Well, I was cute : he made nothing out 
of me.” 

Stanford walked leisurely upon Eoyal and St. Charles 
Streets, diverting his mind from its strong emotions by 
observing everything as he went along. He noted the 
number of saloons and eating-houses and the well- 
dressed people who seeemed to patronize them. He 
observed the bronze statue of Henry Clay, darkened 
still further by time and exposure, which made the little 
girl inquire of her mother, “ Was Henry Clay a black 
man?” He passed the massive St. Charles Hotel, 
haunted by so many social, political, and military 
memories. He passed the theatres, — the Academy of 
Music, redolent of Lydia Thompson and her blondes, 
and the St. Charles, where Charlotte Cushman scored 


164 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


her very first triumph as Lady Macbeth, at the early 
age of nineteen, for she had measured her own powers, 
and said to the manager, Lady Macbeth or nothing.’’ 

When he reached the City Hall, he turned into 
Lafayette Square, that beautiful, breathing lung for 
this crowded part of the city. He saw the artesian 
well spouting out its delicate stream of clear water 
from a thousand feet below the surface. He noted 
the exquisite green of the lawns, and the many happy 
children at play. He took a seat near the statue of 
Franklin which adorns the centre of the square. 

This fine work of art was executed by Hiram Powers, 
the creator of the Greek Slave, and a disciple of Swe- 
denborg, whose idealism is so attractive to poets, painters, 
and sculptors. It cost ten thousand dollars, and should 
not be thus left exposed in the open air. It is a perfect 
representation of the distinguished gentleman, whom 
Elizabeth Cady Stanton calls “ the miserable old kite- 
flyer,” because he strongly recommended obedience and 
silence to women. A certain soothing, cooling effect 
was produced upon Stanford by contemplating the 
benevolent face of that sage collector of politic maxims. 

Stanford had forgotten all these things, and was 
thinking of his lovely Ninette, when he saw Dr. Hol- 
den get out of his buggy at the sidewalk and advance 
towards him. He met the old gentleman half-way, 
and they sat down upon one of the benches together, 
while Stanford told him what further progress had been 
made in his researches for the murderer and the lost 
child. 

The doctor expressed his regret that the great estate 
of Gordon Clarke was about to fall into such incapable 


LOVE IN THE CATHEDRAL. 1(J5 

hands, and his positive conviction that Hypolite Meis- 
sonier was the criminal Stanford was seeking. 

Beware of that fellow he said. He is cunning 
and reckless, and possessed of agencies for harm quite 
beyond our present powers of comprehension.’^ 

Presently the doctor rose from his seat, and, looking 
frankly into Stanford’s face, he inquired, — 

Will you permit an old man who is your friend 
to give a suggestion to a young man and a stranger 
here ?” 

Certainly,” said Stanford, a little astonished. 

“Well, then, I have been told that you are paying 
special attentions to Miss Du Yalcourt. Do not be 
hasty in that direction. If you have not already com- 
mitted yourself, keep quiet for a few days.” 

Stanford flushed up to the roots of his hair. “ May 
I ask you, sir, to explain yourself fully ?” 

“ Doctors,” said the old man, rather sadly, “ often 
learn secrets sooner than other people, but they never 
should be the first to divulge them.” 

“ Then what do you advise ?” 

“Just what I have said, — to stop, stand still, do 
nothing, say nothing, until the denouement is made. 
Then act as you please.” 

“You are very mysterious, sir,” said Stanford, with 
some vexation. “I have a right in the premises to 
know something definite in this matter.” 

“I can give you warning,” said the doctor, “but not 
information. There’s a lion in your path.” 

“ Fiddlesticks !” said Stanford, impatiently. “ One 
of Bunyan’s lions, sleeping or held by an invisible 
chain.” 


100 A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

sir,” said the doctor, real African lion, 
broken loose and rampant. I can say no more.” 

And, in spite of Stanford’s almost impetuous de- 
mand for further explanation, he hurried to his buggy. 

At the worst,” he said to himself, it will prepare 
the young fellow’s mind for something serious, and thus 
mitigate the blow.” 

What does he mean ?” said Stanford, returning to 
his seat. What does he mean by that strange meta- 
phor ? ^ An African lion, broken loose and rampant !’ ” 
He sat a long time in puzzled reflection. He felt that 
some vast but vague evil was impending over him. 
The calm face of Benjamin Franklin brought him no 
comfort. The immense spire of Hr. Palmer’s church 
opposite pointed to no available source of consolation. 
He looked forward to the evening, when a visit to 
Ninette would banish every shadow and explain all. 


THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES, 


167 


CHAPTER XIL 

THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES. 

Ninette Du Valcourt tripped homeward from 
the cathedral-door with as happy a heart as ever beat 
in the bosom of a beautiful woman. Her feeling was 
by no means gay and demonstrative, but a serene, high- 
pitched buoyancy and radiance of spirit, quite inde- 
scribable to others, and perhaps unthinkable to some 
people. It was soon to undergo a terrible revulsion, 
for, by one of those wild contrasts of which nature is 
sometimes guilty, while the greatest and sweetest light 
of her life had risen upon one side of her horizon, the 
darkest cloud imaginable was rolling swiftly up on 
the other. 

Rose Yillemaine had struck her dynamite, and the 
mine had exploded ! 

Ninette had noticed for several days a decided cool- 
ness on the part of Rose towards her, in which Mrs. 
Du Valcourt seemed also in some degree to participate. 
That morning those ladies had been so silent and un- 
communicative that even the joyous spirit of the old 
colonel was suppressed. He hastened away to his 
office, and Ninette made an early exit from the house 
to escape its melancholy atmosphere. 

The first intimation of the trouble in store for her 
was received accidentally, as on her way home she 


168 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


passed the ladies’ entrance of the Hotel Koyal. She 
saw two ladies standing in the door- way, and, just as 
she approached, she heard one of them say excitedly , to 
the other, — 

Here she comes now !” 

The other exclaimed, Poor, poor thing !” 

She looked quickly up and caught their eyes, recog- 
nizing two fashionable women, intimate friends of the 
first Mrs. Du Yalcourt, and frequent visitors at the 
house. She was about to speak to them, but they 
stepped suddenly back into the hall and looked away. 
Astonished at their conduct, she glanced hastily about 
her, to see if there was any other woman in sight to 
whom their words could possibly have applied. She 
was alone, and it was impossible to evade the con- 
clusion that the affront was intentional. Her heart 
thumped forcibly and her face reddened. Then she 
trembled all over and grew as pale as white wax. 

What can it mean ?” she muttered to herself. 

Reverting rapidly to the events of the last few days, 
with a mind stung into suspicion, she remembered that 
three ladies, on whom she had called, had been reported 
as not at home,” when she had every reason to believe 
they were, and that two others had received her with a 
certain embarrassment which she considered as very 
peculiar. 

Hurrying along homeward, she met a gentleman of 
her acquaintance, an occasional visitor at the house. 
He was a clubman whose name was odiously con- 
nected with the sad story of a poor German bookseller’s 
daughter. She really disliked him, but he always 
doffed his hat in the most deferential manner to Miss 


THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES. 


169 


Dll Valcourt. This morning he merely waved his 
hand in a familiar manner, and called out, cheerily, 
‘^Good-morning, Miss Ninette.’’ There was something 
vaguely impertinent in his salutation, and the young 
woman, now thoroughly alarmed, reddened and trembled 
again. 

On entering her father’s house, she met Mrs. Sing- 
well coming through the hall. Rose Villemaine and 
her step-mother just bidding her adieu. Ninette’s ear 
caught the single expression, sternly uttered, “Yes, 
dear Rose, our traditions must be respected.” 

Mrs. Singwell was a very wealthy lady and superbly 
dressed. Her grand carriage stood at the door, with 
its shining pair of bob-tailed blacks and its driver 
and footman in livery. She ranked herself with the 
de la cr^me, and was a stickler for social traditions, 
as most people never knew, or had forgotten, that her 
grandmother sold cakes and oranges at the corner of 
Bourbon and Canal. 

Ninette, with a faint smile, approached to salute her, 
but the portly woman of fashion threw up her gloved 
hand, elevated her chin, and stared at her. Deeply 
humiliated, the poor girl rushed by them and hurried 
up the stairs, hearing behind her a half-suppressed 
titter from Rose Villemaine. 

Ninette entered her room, locked the door behind 
her, and, dropping her bonnet heedlessly upon the 
floor, threw herself upon her bed in a paroxysm of 
tears. 

“ What does it mean ? What does all this mean ?” 
she exclaimed, bitterly. “ Oh, Hugh Stanford, what evil 
thing has befallen me?” 

H 


15 


170 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

Eose Yillemaine and her mother sat afterwards in 
the reception-room, silent for some time. Both seemed 
anxious and worried, as if some serious struggle was 
impending. When they spoke, it was in a low voice, 
as if they were conspirators afraid of being heard even 
in their own home. They had evidently had some 
disagreement. Mrs. Du Valeo urt at length said, — 

I suffer much for that unfortunate young woman 
up-stairs. Your laugh in the hall at Mrs. SingwelFs 
rude conduct was very heartless.’^ 

^^Why,’^ said the daughter, coolly, — ^^why should 
you expend so much sympathy upon a person who has 
occupied a false position for so many years? This 
woman is no relative of ours, no relative of Mr. Du 
Valcourt. She is the daughter of a disreputable colored 
woman, the grand-daughter of an old octoroon living 
on charity in the Pontalba Buildings. Think of the 
infamy we have endured all this time by the imposition 
of such a character upon our social life ! It is we who 
are to be pitied 

^^Oh, but it is dreadful, dreadful for the poor 
creature, reared and educated and petted and admired 
as she has been f’ The maternal instinct preserves a 
perennial fount of tenderness somewhere in the female 
heart. 

You were so precipitate in this matter,’^ complained 
Mrs. Du Valcourt, so rash, so reckless of results ! 
We should have held a family council over this affair, 
and discussed it with closed doors. You have rushed 
around to all our acquaintances, and blurted out this 
awful secret into everybody’s ear. It is scandalous ! 
What can the world say but ^ Jealousy’ ? Think how 


THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES. 


171 


innocent and blameless Ninette herself is ! You should 
have prepared her for this terrible revelation. You 
should have prepared Mr. Du Valcourt for it.” 

I have prepared him for it,” said Rose. “ I wrote 
him a note this morning, and sent it to his office, de- 
tailing the facts and proofs ; and I requested him to 
visit the asylum and inspect the records for himself, 
and to verify the evidence there obtained by an inter- 
view with old Lethe in the Pontalba Buildings.” 

And he will come home presently in a terrible state 
of excitement,” said his wife, apprehensively. 

^^We cannot pass through a great domestic crisis 
like this,” said the daughter, without considerable 
excitement. Some people will be very angry. Some 
will have hysterics. Some will blame us, some will 
approve. In nine days the storm will blow over. 
We will be rid of Miss Mary Emily Gordon, for that 
is her real name, and everything will roll on smoothly 
and happily.” 

At that moment the front door was opened, and 
Colonel Du Yalcourt^s hurried step was heard in the 
hall. He entered the room, pale and gasping for 
breath, and sank into the first chair. His wife, appre- 
hending heart-trouble, with which he had been threat- 
ened, rushed out into the dining-room, and returned in 
a moment with a glass of brandy-and-water. Miss 
Villemaine merely stared at him with her great black 
eyes. He drank off the stimulant, and looked at the 
placid face of the young woman before him. 

^^What infernal curiosity,” he exclaimed, striking 
a table near by violently with his fist, “ induced you 
to pry into matters that did not concern you,, and fish 


172 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


up this sulphureous secret from the Dead Sea of human 
memory 

No curiosity at all, sir,” said Kose, firmly, “ but a 
laudable sense of duty to myself and the family.” 

The family could have spared your exertions in 
its behalf. You have blasted the life of one of the 
loveliest creatures in the world. You have brought 
disgrace and misery upon my household.” 

The truth, sir, never brings disgrace and misery. 
Let them fall where they are deserved. Our skirts 
are free.” 

Du Yalcourt sat silent for some minutes gazing 
%upon the floor. The room was so still that the French 
clock was heard ticking on the mantel. He slowly 
muttered to himself, — 

The records of the asylum proved it. Oh, fatal 
mistake, to have ignored the antecedents ! Yet my 
wife and I thought it the very best way to secure the 
peace and happiness of all parties. I thought old 
Lethe was keeping one secret, and I now find that she 
was harboring an entirely different and more terrible 
one. She is now fairly cornered and driven to con- 
fession. She is willing to swear in a court of justice 
that, to her own positive knowledge, Ninette is her 
grand-daughter. Think of it ! her grand-daughter ! 
What a hideous discovery !” 

The discovery has been made,” said Kose, with a 
lawyer-like coolness and precision, ^^no matter who 
made it. The facts have been circulated throughout 
society, no matter who did it. It is un fait accompli : 
why discuss it? The only question now before us, 
sir, is, what is to be done with Miss Mary Emily 


THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES. 


173 


Gordon, the daughter of a disreputable colored woman, 
and therefore not a fit associate for the ladies of your 
family.” 

The old man groaned deeply, and stared at the black- 
eyed, black-haired, yellow-skinned young woman. 

By the Eternal !” he exclaimed, with old General 
Jackson’s favorite oath; ^^with what odious self-pos- 
session you speak of these heart-rending things ! If 
you were judged by appearances, one would say that 
you had ten times more African taint in your blood 
than Ninette.” 

^^Oh, Du Yalcourt! Du Yalcourt!” remonstrated 
his wife. 

My fatherless and brotherless position, sir, should 
protect me from insult,” almost shouted Miss Eose. 

The colonel paid no attention to either complaint. 
He covered his face with his hands and murmured, — 

Ah, you did not know her, so sweet, so gentle, so 
joyous, so obedient. You were not reared with her. 
She was the idol of all her young companions. If 
you had known her, you would never, never have done 
this cruel thing.” 

Colonel Du Yalcourt,” said Eose, coming forward 
and placiug her hand on the shoulder of that gentle- 
man as she stood by his side, emotions are transitory ; 
they contribute nothing to the solution of the problem 
before us. We are brought face to face with a question 
of the deepest significance. Is the black race to live 
socially with the white race ? — not in political or legal 
equality, — ^but are the social barriers to be broken down 
and the races to intermarry and amalgamate, or are 
they to be kept separate and distinct forever? The 
15 * 


174 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


nation has this difficult problem ahead of it. The 
issue is forced upon this little household now. We, 
we three white people against one person of African 
descent, must decide it at once for ourselves. No delay 
is admissible. Recover your self-possession, and act 
with the dignity and decision worthy of your name 
and your race.’^ 

Why,” said the unhappy man, — why should I 
turn my adopted child out of my house to gratify your 
whims and prejudices ?” 

“ Because her adoption was a faux pas made in igno- 
rance of her real character; because there are other 
people in the house whose sacred, social rights must 
be respected ; and because we have neither whims nor 
prejudices, but rational opinions and settled convic- 
tions.” 

As Du Valcourt remained silent, she went on, in a 
calm and positive tone, all the coldness and hardness 
of her nature coming to the front. 

“ If the facts were known, this young woman would 
not be received into any first-class hotel or boarding- 
house in the city. The facts being known in our circle 
of acquaintance, we may expect similar results. The 
majority of our best visitors will not accept Miss Mary 
Emily Gordon on an equal footing. The issue is in- 
evitable. Either she, or my mother and myself, must 
leave the house.”, 

“We never know the inherent baseness of our 
boasted civilization,” groaned Du Yalcourt, “until 
personal experience brings us face to face with some 
of its enormities.” 

“ You, sir, may indulge your fancy with philanthropio 


THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES. 


175 


theories, and take the role of martyr as much as you 
please. We women propose to consult our own indi- 
vidual interests and happiness.’^ 

Mrs. Du Yalcourt had been silent all this time, as 
she generally was when any serious subject was under 
consideration. Her daughter was so much more intel- 
ligent and fluent that she always accepted her as a 
mouth-piece, and rarely attempted to strengthen the 
force of her arguments. 

Colonel Du Yalcourt turned to his wife : 

Do you agree with your daughter, madame, in the 
views she has presented, and in the determination she 
has taken 

I do,” replied the lady, with a little nod of the 
head, as quietly and briefly as if she were answering a 
question in the marriage ceremony. 

‘‘Has Ninette been apprised of her misfortune? — 
of this damnable discovery ?” 

“She must imagine that something strange has hap- 
pened, for Mrs. Singwell cut her point-blank at the 
door just now, and she ran up-stairs weeping.” 

The old gentleman groaned deeply, — 

“ My child ! my child !” 

“Colonel Du Yalcourt,” said Eose, “why do you 
persist in calling this unfortunate creature your child ?” 

“ Look here, miss,” he said, fiercely, “ if you expect to 
cut away the love which has entwined itself about my 
heart-strings for twenty years with your little penknife 
of discovery, you are mistaken. Ninette Du Yalcourt 
is my daughter by adoption, my legal heir, the child of 
my afiections, and so will remain, in spite of all your 
cunning and selfish plotting.” 


176 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


The two women were silent. Du Valconrt walked 
about the room a few moments in silent and painful 
reflection. He was evidently bracing himself up for 
some great trial. He then rang for the housemaid, and 
told her to go up to Miss Du Valcourt’s chamber, and 
request that young lady to meet the family at once in 
the reception-room on important business. 

Eose attempted several times to renew the conversa- 
tion, but a peremptory wave of the hand enjoined her 
silence. 

After a while Ninette walked, or rather staggered, 
slowly into the room, still wearing her street-dress, her 
eyes red and swollen from weeping, and a deathly pal- 
lor on her cheeks. Du Valcourt hastened towards her 
and kissed her. She threw her arms about his neck, 
and exclaimed, between her sobs, — 

Oh, papa, papa, what is the matter ? What have 
I done ? What does it all mean 

Miss Eose looked on in serene silence. The mother 
raised her handkerchief to her eyes. 

Du Valcourt kissed his daughter tenderly again, led 
her to a chair, took a seat beside her, and held one of 
her hands in both of his own. 

Now listen, my child,” he said, I have something 
very distressing to tell you. It grieves my soul, but it 
is my duty, for I can do it better than anybody else. I 
can break it to you in a manner least offensive, least 
painful to you.” 

Ninette lifted her splendid gray eyes to his face in a 
bewildered and frightened way. 

‘^You always knew, Ninette, that you were an 
adopted child ?” 


THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES. 177 

Yes,” she answered, tremulously, ^Hhe orphan, only 
child of some of your distant relatives.” 

Such was the statement made to the world and 
accepted by it ?” 

And it was not true ?” 

She read in his sorrowful face that it was not true. 

And I am no kin to you at all ?” she said, with the 
tears trickling down her face. 

^^You are no relative. You were taken from an 
orphan asylum.” 

The young woman shuddered and seemed about to 
faint. The old man hastened to say, — 

But I adopted you as my child, and my child you 
are, and ever shall be, my sweet Ninette.” 

An orphan asylum !” she muttered ; that explains 
my earliest recollection of being in a great house with 
many little children. Then I am a waif!” 

Now, Ninette, my child, nerve yourself bravely to 
hear what else I have to say.” 

Can you say anything more dreadful than you have 
already said ? — that I am no kin to you ?” 

Yes, my dear, something still more dreadful. But 
listen, Ninette. I tell you beforehand that you will 
always be the same to me. I will never desert you. I 
will divide my fortune with you. I shall always love 
you as I do now.” 

This effort to administer consolation before he struck 
the blow was very touching. It was like giving an 
anodyne to one about to undergo a surgical operation. 

cannot bear this suspense,” she said, suddenly 
rousing herself and looking him in the face , let me 
know all at once. Do not hesitate.” 

m 


178 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


^^Your parentage has been discovered; your rela- 
tives 

‘^And are they such dreadful people?” she said, in 
a hoarse whisper, with a look of terror. 

Oh, no ; they are not dreadful — not at all ; they 
are good enough people in their way, but — but ” 

''But what?” 

" They are socially banned !” 

"Socially banned?” she murmured, almost inaudibly, 
and as if she did not exactly comprehend. 

" They are persons of African descent !” 

Du Valcourt knew by the movement of her lips that 
she exclaimed, " My God !” and her body tilted gently 
over to one side of the chair, and she would have fallen 
to the floor had he not caught her in his arms and 
borne her to a sofa, on which she lay like a corpse. 

" Quick !” he shouted, " water ! brandy ! hartshorn ! 
She has fainted ! 

" Oh, my God !” he continued, pressing his hand 
upon his heart, where he felt an intense pain, " it may 
be the shock has killed her !” 

They all busied themselves, even Rose Villemaine, in 
unbuttoning her collar, loosening her dress, fanning 
her, and applying restoratives. 

"Fainting,” said Rose, with the coolness of a surgeon, 
" is a happy provision of nature. It is a lapse of con- 
sciousness, a Lethean bath, during which the nervous 
system recovers from its shock.” 

Rose’s hypothesis, however unfeelingly stated, was 
correct. After some minutes, which seemed intermi- 
nable to poor Du Valcourt, the object of their solicitude 
revived, opened her eyes, and said, feebly, — 


THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES. 179 

Thank you ! thank you ! I am sorry to give you 
all this trouble.^^ 

“ Lie quiet, my child, said the tender-hearted old 
man, “ until you are fully restored and he proceeded 
to feed her with successive teaspoonfuls of an iced 
sangaree he had hastily prepared. 

Presently she said, There, thank you ! I am all 
right now.” She sat up on the sofa, rearranged her 
dress, looked at the two ladies, and said, in a subdued 
tone, — 

I now comprehend the situation perfectly. What 
am I expected to do under these extraordinary circum- 
stances ?” 

In the first place,” said Rose, quietly, you will 
resume your own name, which is Mary Emily Gordon.” 

^^For shame ! Miss Villemaine,” said Du Valcourt, 
sternly. 

‘‘What else should she do?” persisted Rose. “And, 
in the second place, her common sense will tell her that 
her separation from this household is necessary.” 

“Leave this house, where I have lived all my life?” 
said Ninette, anxiously, showing that she had not yet 
really comprehended the situation. 

“ How can it be otherwise ?” said Rose. “ Think 
of it ! The blood of barbarians and slaves flows in 
your veins. How can we live together as equals ? Be 
reasonable. Miss Gordon.” 

“Be silent. Rose Villemaine,” said Du Valcourt. 
“ You cannot explain without wounding.” 

“ Yes, my dear,” said Mrs. Du Valcourt, timidly ; 
“ leave it all to your father. He can pacify the young 
lady more readily than you. I know he will provide 


180 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


liberally for her, and we will make no objection. I am 
sure I hope she will be happy.^’ 

“You said just now,” exclaimed Ninette, “that my 
real name is Gordon. Have you ever heard of an 
Emily Gordon, daughter of old Lethe Maxwell, who 
is on her way home dying of consumption ?” 

“ She is your mother,” said Eose, with an ill-concealed 
exultation in her tone. 

“Have you any more cruel stabs to make?” growled 
Du Yalcourt to his step-daughter, who had become 
loathsome in his sight. 

“ They are the simple facts of the case,” replied the 
inexorable woman. 

Ninette had been turning her eyes vacantly from 
one face to another. She did not faint, but she sank 
back on the sofa, with her head against the wall, and 
covered her face with her handkerchief. She did not 
weep: the fountain of tears was dry; excitability in 
that direction was exhausted for the present. 

“Now, my dear Ninette,” said Du Yalcourt, in a 
more cheerful tone, — “my dear Ninette, — for never, 
never will I call you by any other name, — listen to 
me. You now know all. I only consent to your 
separation frpm this household because I know that 
these two women and their associates would make you 
miserably unhappy in it. I will provide for you else- 
where in handsome style. You shall not have a wish 
ungratified. We will be the same to each other that 
we have always been.” 

Then, turning to Eose and his wife, he said, “ Let 
this house be closed as if a death had happened in it, 
for this is worse than death. No visiting, no company, 


THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES. 181 

until I make a proper disposition of this case. Do not 
await me at dinner.” 

He then lifted the handkerchief from Ninette’s face, 
kissed her several times, and replaced it as before. She 
gave no response but a tender pressure of the hand. 
He left the room without looking behind him. 

After a while Ninette rose slowly to her feet and, 
without speaking a word, retired to her chamber. The 
mother and daughter, left behind, discussed the situa- 
tion for a long time, the former endeavoring in vain to 
soften the asperity of the latter. The bell sounded for 
dinner and the two ladies took their seats at the table. 
Suddenly Ninette appeared in the door- way attired for 
the street. 

Are you going out?” asked Mrs. Du Valcourt, in 
astonishment. 

I am going out,” answered the fearfully paUid girl. 

Why do you leave so suddenly ?” 

If I am a negress, I must live with negroes.” 

You should not go without Colonel Du Yalcourt’s 
knowledge. He has gone to make his own arrange- 
ments for you.” 

have left a letter for him up-stairs,” said Ninette, 
turning into the hall. The ladies rose and followed 
her. 

“He will be greatly dissatisfied,” exclaimed Mrs. 
Du Yalcourt. 

Ninette merely said, “ I will send a porter for my 
trunk. My address will be No. 7 Pontalba Buildings.” 

She had her hand upon the door-knob. 

“ Thank you,” she said, faintly, “ for all your pre- 
vious kindness to me.” 


16 


182 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


She bowed gracefully. Rose bowed stiffly in return. 
It was too much for the mother. As Ninette opened 
the door, Mrs. Du Yalcourt sprang forward and kissed 
her, and, as it closed upon the form of the voluntary 
outcast, she sank into a chair and burst into tears. 

The letter which Ninette had left upon her table 
ran as follows : 

Dear Colonel Du Yalcourt, — 

Thanks, a thousand thanks, for all the love and blessings you 
have showered upon me, and especially for the kind words you 
have spoken to me to-day. I have been imposed long enough 
upon your family, and it is now proper for me to withdraw my- 
self from your household and leave it in peace. A negress must 
live with negroes. The good education you have given me will 
secure my support, and I shall devote myself to the elevation of 
my race. Do not endeavor to change my determination, but 
leave me to my destiny. It is best for us all. Accept my inex- 
pressible gratitude and affection. 

Mart Emily Gordon. 


That evening Rose Yillemaine and her mother sat 
silently in the grand parlor. The door-bell rang. The 
young lady called out to the servant in the hall : 

Remember, Lisetta, that we are ^at home’ to 
nobody but Mr. Hugh Stanford.” 

^^And why to Mr. Hugh Stanford?” said the 
mother, surprised. 

Because I wish to enjoy the pleasure of breaking 
the news to him,” said Rose, slowly and bitterly. 

The mother had barely time to say, Rose ! Rose !” 
in a reproachful tone, when Stanford entered the door. 

Rose advanced smilingly to meet him, but he saw 
by Mrs. Du Yalcourt’s face that something was wrong. 


THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES, 183 

“Are you all well?^^ he said, anxiously, without 
taking a seat. 

Certainly, every member of the family is well.” 

Miss Du Yalcourt ?” 

No person of that name resides here.” 

Will you please explain your meaning. Miss Yille- 
maine,” said Stanford, with a startled, half-indignant 
expression. 

^^It was recently discovered, sir,” answered Eose, 
as coolly as if she was alluding to a fact in science, 
‘‘that the young person who bore that name for so 
long a time was not entitled to it.” 

“Not entitled to it?” exclaimed Stanford, with a 
stupefied air. 

“ Yes, not entitled to it. Her true name is Mary 
Emily Gordon. She has gone to live with her rela- 
tives.” 

“ Gone ? — where ?” 

“ To No 7 Pontalba Buildings.” 

“ To her old nurse ?” 

“ That old negress is her own grandmother.” 

“ My God !” exclaimed Stanford, rushing out into 
the hall, without noticing Eose or her mother, “ I must 
go to her at once. I understand the metaphor.” 

“ Go to her at once !” said Eose, lifting both hands 
in amazement ; “ Go to her at once !” 

Mr. Stanford slammed the front door behind him. 

Turning to her mother, Eose remarked, with en- 
forced self-possession, “The news must have excited 
Mr. Staaford. It made him quite forget his polite- 
ness.” 

But the mental strain proved too much for even 


184 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


Miss Yillemaine’s powerful nerves. She hurried to 
her chamber, locked the door behind her, and burst 
into a paroxysm of indignant tears. Her dynamite 
had exploded, but she was not happy. 

Like Homer’s horses that were said to have swal- 
lowed the ground, Hugh Stanford swallowed the space 
between Du Valcourt’s and the Pontalba Buildings. 
Kate, the chambermaid, took up his message to Ni- 
nette that he begged an immediate interview, but re- 
turned saying that the lady was too ill to receive any 
one at present. He now felt that his own emotions 
had made him too precipitate, and that it was indeli- 
cate to obtrude upon her privacy in the fresh agony of 
her deep and strange humiliation. 

He put a silver dollar into the girl’s hand, and said 
to her, Tell the young lady that I know all, and that 
I love her still.” The sympathetic female, glad to be 
the conveyer of a real love-message, pocketed the 
money, and repeated the words to Ninette without a 
mistake. 

Great was old Lethe’s astonishment when Ninett« 
Du Yalcourt entered her room, pale as death, trem- 
bling with emotion, and kissed her on the forehead 
several times, a thing she had never done before. To 
her eager questioning Ninette only replied, I am too 
much exhausted now : I will tell you all to-morrow.” 

She retired into the furnished room which she had 
engaged that very morning for the sick woman whom 
she now knew to be her mother. What a revolution 
of circumstances in a single day ! Emily Gordon had 
just telegraphed from Cincinnati that she was too 
weak to start home, — that she must wait and gather 


THE DYNAMITE EXPLODES. 


186 


a little more strength for the journey. Delusive hope ! 
which the consumptive often retains up to the day of 
dissolution. 

The tender-hearted servant was overwhelmed with 
mingled curiosity and pity at the sight of this beautiful 
and fashionable lady, seeking this humble retreat at 
such a late hour in the evening and evidently under 
circumstances of deep distress. What a mystery ! 
what sorrow ^ she kept saying to herself ; but she 
dared not question a woman so dignified, so abstracted, 
and so far above her in social relations. She contented 
herself with making the little room as tidy and com- 
fortable as possible, and with pressing upon its new 
<>ccupant a hot cup of tea and some little refreshment. 

Ninette was too much crushed and stunned by the 
terrible blow she had received to take that evening any 
clear view of her situation and surroundings. She had 
a vague idea that it was her duty to accept the situation 
and accommodate herself to circumstances. She did not 
regret leaving her old home, with all its comforts and 
rich and happy associations; for what high-spirited 
woman could remain under the same roof a single 
night with Rose Yillemaine after what had been done 
and said ? The sweet and fatherly conduct of Colonel 
Du Valcourt impressed her deeply, and gave a silver 
lining to the cloud. But the thought that she had 
lost llugh Stanford intensified the horror of the abyss 
into which she had fallen, for what white man with a 
particle of self-respect would marry a woman tainted 
with African blood ? 

Stanford’s tender message to her, I know all, but 
I love you still,” fell upon her soul like water on a 
16 * 


186 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

burning tongue. It was so strange and so sweet she 
could scarcely credit it. She made Kate repeat it over 
to her and swear that she had not fabricated it. She 
would say it over to herself, with a little hysterical 
laugh and renewed tears. It was late at night before 
she fell asleep in those strange and humble quarters, 
under the shadow of the great cloud which had long 
waited for her. It was a troubled, restless, unrefresh- 
ing sleep, but occasionally a faint smile, with its old 
sweetness, would break out around her lips, and she 
would murmur, ^^He knows all, but he loves me 
still r 


STANFORD STANDS FIRM, 


187 


CHAPTER XIII. 

STANFOED STANDS FIRM. 

What we pronounce plausible and feasible in the 
shades of the evening and night is often found to be 
doubtful and difficult, or even impossible, when morn- 
ing appears. The soul creates its shadows also, in 
correspondence with those of nature, and takes them 
for realities ; but, when the sunlight of truth is poured 
upon them, they are found to be mere hopes and im- 
aginations. 

So was it with Ninette Du Valcourt’s happy dream 
that Stanford knew all but loved her still. When the 
white sunshine of the next morning illumined her sur- 
roundings, she saw and felt clearly that her union with 
Hugh Stanford was impossible. He had evidently 
been thinking of her as a beautiful white woman, torn 
suddenly and violently from her charming environment 
and plunged into a state of darkness and despair. It 
was like the descent of Marie Antoinette from the 
palace to the dungeon. His chivalric spirit impelled 
him to pity and comfort her. He had sent words of 
consolation which must not be literally interpreted. 
When he realized all, — the actual descent into negro- 
dom, the curse of heredity, the inflexible prejudices of 
society, — he would be compelled to pause, to reflect, 
to abandon his position. And even if he persisted in 


188 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


his mad course, blinded by love, it was clearly her own 
duty to reject his offers, and not permit him to precipi- 
tate himself into the gulf into which she had fallen. 

These were Ninette’s thoughts when she called for 
writing materials and sat down at a little pine table 
to compose a letter to Hugh Stanford. She made sev- 
eral efforts, which seemed unsatisfactory, for she tore 
the sheets of paper into pieces. At last the following 
note was written, sealed, and directed : 

Dear Mr. Stanford, — 

The very great change in my circumstances since yesterday 
morning, of which you are aware, dissolves of necessity the rela- 
tionship which had been established between us. An impassable 
gulf separates us from each other. I entreat you not to see me, 
as it is useless to discuss the painful question. Let us submit at 
once to the inflexible decree of destiny. For your friendly senti- 
ments and good wishes in my case, I return you my humble 
gratitude. 

Mart Emily Gordon. 

Kate, the chambermaid, was charged to deliver this 
letter to the office-clerk at the H6tel Royal with her 
own hands. As she was leaving the room on this 
errand, Ninette suddenly sprang towards her, with a 
motion as if she would recall the message, but stopped, 
pressing her two hands against her heart, while Kate 
regarded her with amazement, and then faintly mur- 
mured, Go on ! Go on !” Throwing herself into the 
chair, with face and arms prone upon the little table, 
she exclaimed, Oh, Hugh, Hugh ! I love you still, 
and shall love you forever !” 

Hugh Stanford looked ten years older than he did 
the day before, such had been the harrowing effect of 


STANFORD STANDS FIRM. 


189 


the night’s experiences and reflections upon him. He 
had just finished a light breakfast when Colonel Du 
Valcourt’s card was sent up to him, marked “for 
private interview.” He received the old gentleman in 
his room. He saw at once the unmistakable traces of 
mental suffering on the face which was usually so ruddy 
and joyous. 

“ I come, sir,” he began, in a quiet, dignified manner, 
“to give you a true statement of the events which 
have occurred in my family, to forestall the incorrect 
versions which will probably be circulated in the com- 
munity. I desire especially to assure you that I never 
had the least suspicion that my adopted child was a 
person of tainted blood, for I would have been guilty 
of a great crime had I concealed that fact from you. 
I wish to justify you beforehand, and to declare that I 
cannot blame you if you at once abandon a suit the 
conditions of which have undergone so serious a change. 
And I must also say that poor, dear Ninette has been 
entirely blameless and ignorant of the true state of the 
case. The discovery has fallen upon us all like a 
thunderbolt in a clear sky.” 

The stately, punctilious, and yet tremulous manner 
in which Du Yalcourt uttered these words, pregnant 
with his high sense of duty and honor, was very touch- 
ing to Hugh Stanford, who saw that, beneath the plain, 
business-like surface of the speech, the old man’s heart 
was breaking for Ninette. 

Du Yalcourt then proceeded to tell the whole story : 
how he and his wife came to New Orleans two years 
after the war, without children ; how they determined 
to adopt a child, and went to the asylum for that pur- 


190 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

pose ; how they selected the most intelligent and beauti- 
ful little girl of them all ; and how they resolved, after 
due reflection, to take the child without inquiry into 
its antecedents, in spite of the almost solemn advice 
and warning of the mother superior against such an 
unusual proceeding. 

Knowledge of its antecedents might disturb the 
serenity of their thoughts about it, or even prejudice 
them against it. They had rather take it as if it came 
to them fresh from heaven, so they could have more 
powerful parental feelings towards it. The perfect 
purity and whiteness of the child’s skin and the deli- 
cacy of her hair were such as to preclude the faintest 
suspicion of her being of mixed origin. 

^^The evidence against her,” continued Du Valcourt, 
rests upon the records of the asylum, which are clear 
and explicit, and upon the statement of old Lethe 
Maxwell that to her positive knowledge Ninette is 
the daughter of her own child Emily Gordon. This 
woman, she says, is now on her way to New Orleans, 
and will undoubtedly acknowledge and claim her 
child.” 

Colonel Du Valcourt,” said Stanford, premising 
that you have my profound sympathy in what must be 
to you a very great affl^tion, I would like to know 
why your adopted child left your house so suddenly 
and took refuge with a colored relative.” 

“Ah, sir, I assure you, without my knowledge or 
consent.” And the old gentleman proceeded to detail 
the sorrowful incidents of the day before. 

“ After all my offers and promises,” he continued, 
“when I return at night, having already secured a 


STANFORD STANDS FIRM. 


191 


happy home for her with excellent white people, I find 
the bird flown and this note left upon her table. Read 
it, sir.^^ 

Stanford read, with manifest emotion, Ninette’s beau- 
tiful letter to her adopted father, in which she accepts 
her changed situation with dignified humility, declines 
his offers for the future while gratefully acknowledging 
the past, and declares her intention of maintaining 
herself, and devoting her powers to the elevation of 
her race. 

“ Magnificent woman !” cried Stanford, with enthusi- 
asm. Magnificent woman ! This is the true heroine j 
I am im worthy of her, sir. None but a hero should 
aspire to her love.” 

Du Valcourt was surprised and secretly delighted at 
Stanford’s high estimate of Ninette, which corre- 
sponded exactly with his own. His eyes filled with 
tears and his voice trembled. He who had come 
to apologize for having encouraged the attention of a 
stranger to a negress in the disguise of a white lady, 
now stayed to launch forth in her praises like an 
old gossip, while Stanford listened with the joy that 
lovers feel when the adored one is greatly applauded 
by others. 

Du Valcourt had scarcely taken his leave when 
Ninette’s letter was delivered to Stanford. He was a 
man of liberal opinions and tender sensibilities, and, 
when his mind was made up as to the righteousness of 
a certain course, his will was absolutely inflexible. 
Whether he had deliberately counted the cost during 
the painful watches of the preceding night, or whether 
his great love for Ninette impelled him to a rapid de- 


192 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


cision, he sat quietly down and penned her the follow- 
ing singular letter : 

My own lovely Ninette,— 

If you will open your New Testament at Romans, 8tli chapter, 
38th verse, you will find these words : 

“ For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, 
nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to 
come, 

“ Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able 
to separate us,” etc., etc., etc. 

Behold there a true and perfect picture of our relations to each 
other, and the strength of the bonds which hold us together. In 
the presence of realized facts, discussion is idle and delay is useless. 

It will be full moon to-night. I will be standing at the door 
of No. 7 at nine o’clock precisely. You are your own mistress, 
and I am your rightful protector. Come down at that hour, and 
we will take a stroll in Jackson Square and arrange the details 
of our marriage. 

Your devoted 

Hugh. 

After despatching this decisive communication to 
Ninette, the author of it walked to Dr. Holden’s office, 
where he found Denfield in consultation with the doctor. 

Respect the laws of nature,” the latter was saying. 

An overworked life is not worth living. Play lazy.” 

Well met,” said Stanford, after a cordial greeting, 

for I want a word with both of you.” 

^^Mr. Denfield,” he continued, ^^do the laws of 
Louisiana prohibit marriages between white people and 
those of African descent ?” 

No,” said the lawyer ; there were such prohibi- 
tory statutes on our books, but the Republicans repealed 
them, on the ground that the races should be equal in 
the eye of the law. The Democrats have let the matter 


STANFORD STANDS FIRM. 


196 


stand, leaving the whole question to private taste and 
choice. Some States have enacted stringent laws 
against such intermarriages, but it seems to be useless, 
for there is no more amalgamation here where every- 
thing is optional.’^ 

Very satisfactory,’’ said Stanford. Then, turning 
to the doctor, he asked, — 

Do the children of such marriages have a tendency 
to revert to the lower or darker type ?” 

“ There is some doubt and contradictory evidence on 
that point. Mulattoes are undoubtedly feebler and less 
prolific than either of the two races from which they 
spring. If left alone they would probably become ex- 
tinct or revert to the black type. Their children are 
frequently darker than themselves. Even the children 
of octoroons or those of still lighter shades, sometimes 
betray physical characteristics of the negro when first 
born or in the second childhood of old age. But with 
the successive addition of the pure white element with 
each generation, the dark element rapidly disappears 
and is at last obliterated.” 

Stanford looked the doctor full in the face and 
remarked, — 

I have met your African lion whom you described 
as ^ loose and rampant,’ and his ferocity has not fright- 
ened me out of my wits. I shall feel still less afraid 
when I am assured that there is no scientific basis for 
the supposition that the product of a union of myself 
with Miss Ninette Du Valcourt will result in any 
deterioration of my race.” 

The two gentlemen were so well bred that the)’ 
expressed no astonishment at this remark. 

I n 17 


194 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


think you may feel perfectly secure on that 
point/^ said the doctor. 

It will take impregnable evidence/^ said Denfield, 
^Ho make me believe that Miss Du Valcourt has any 
African blood in her veins.^’ 

Ah,” remarked the doctor, appearances are very 
deceptive. I bought a young slave-woman before the 
war, who had red hair, blue eyes, and a skin as fair as 
Miss Du Valcourt’s. I took her out of a slave-pen in 
sheer pity at the utter incongruity between her appear- 
ance and her surroundings. But, white as she was, she 
was a genuine negro in all her tastes and habits. Her 
freedom, which came soon after, proved a curse and not 
a blessing.” 

She was born,” replied Stanford, a slave among 
slaves. If she had been reared from infancy in the 
North by intelligent and refined white people, do you 
not suppose her character would have been entirely 
different ?” 

Undoubtedly,” said the doctor, for she would 
have enjoyed the advantages of education and culture, 
which antidote a vicious heredity. Civilization is the 
product of the change imposed upon heredity by edu- 
cation and culture.” 

There was silence for a few moments. It was evident 
that the Southern gentlemen either had nothing more 
to say, or felt a certain embarrassment or delicacy in 
continuing the subject. But Stanford seemed inclined 
to press the consideration of it to a practical issue. 

In spite,” he said, of the teachings of priests, 
poets, philosophers, and statesmen, the ideas involved 
in the words equality and fraternity are almost as little 


STANFORD STANDS FIRM. 


195 


realized as if they were expressed in unknown tongues. 
To illustrate my meaning. You are both intelligent, 
liberal, broad-minded men. You know that Miss Du 
Yalcourt is a highly-educated, refined, and cultivated 
woman, entirely undistinguishable in mental or physi- 
cal traits from the white race. If I had told you a 
week ago that I was going to marry Miss Du Yalcourt, 
you would have congratulated me cordially upon my 
great good fortune. Now that you have learned that 
Miss Du Yalcourt’s veins contain some one-thirty- 
second part of African blood, all is changed. You now 
revolt at the marriage. Her personal worth goes for 
nothing. Instead of congratulating, you pity me. Can 
you explain it V’ 

“If you do not feel instinctively as we do,’^ said 
Denfield, “ our arguments will probably fail to convince 
you.” 

“Human instincts should be based upon reason,” 
said Stanford. “Prejudices are false and vicious in- 
stincts. All mere prejudices are ignoble : race preju- 
dices form no exception.” 

“ Our antipathy to the marriage,” said the lawyer, 
“ is not an unreasoning instinct, but has a strong phil- 
osophical basis.” 

Denfield hesitated, as if he did not care to discuss 
the matter, but Stanford eagerly invited him to go on. 

“Well,” continued the lawyer, “you must permit 
me to be perfectly candid, and you must not be offended 
at what I have to say, however deeply it may wound 
you. 

“Ignoring the very important question of race-in- 
feriority and other serious objections, I would call 


196 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


your attention to one fact, — that four or five genera- 
tions of illicit unions on the part both of the grand- 
fathers and the grandmothers must, by the laws of 
heredity, produce a type in which the animal or sensu- 
ous nature largely predominates. This is the reason 
why women of African descent who are nearly white 
are such alluring and dangerous centres of attraction 
to the white man, and such objects of antipathy and 
dislike to the white woman. I do not care to enlarge 
upon this idea, but you will see at once its great sig- 
nificance.’^ 

Stanford looked a little disconcerted. He had evi- 
dently never surveyed the subject from the stand-point 
suggested. It was a new thought to him, and a pain- 
ful one. Still, he soon rallied, with a display of con- 
siderable philosophical sang-froid. 

It seems to me,” he said, that we have over-esti- 
mated or greatly misunderstood the quality and the 
power of heredity. It is seldom that any special 
faculty descends in a right line increasing in force as it 
descends. Soldiers, poets, statesmen, musicians, archi- 
tects, scientists, rarely or never beget their like. The 
children of the very pious are seldom pious. The son 
of a miser is a spendthrift. Why should the children 
of sensualists be sensual? It would require a well- 
established series of facts to prove the truth of such 
an assertion. 

^^Then, moreover, how can we presume to sit in 
judgment on these people? What do we know of 
their conditions, motives, circumstances, characters, and 
permanent states of life? How many white marriages, 
do you suppose, would be unobjectionable, if we could 


STANFORD STANDS FIRM. I97 

trace the secret history of all the parties back for five 
generations? 

I am aware that this is special pleading, but I in- 
sist that our knowledge of evolution and heredity is 
too limited and imperfect for us to make sweeping 
generalizations as to the transmission of moral or 
immoral qualities/^ 

The lawyer and the doctor both nodded acquiescence. 
There was another silent pause. All seemed to feel 
that the subject had not been properly presented, or 
perhaps that it was unpresentable. 

^‘It is curious,” the doctor at length remarked, 
^^how the race-antipathy of the white man starts up 
like an alarmed sentinel at the mention of marriage. 
He will gratify his social appetites with inferior races, 
displaying a low degree of affection for his temporary 
mates and his children. The same man will exhibit 
an intense racial jealousy when it comes to the question 
of marriage; and within the bonds of marriage his 
paternal and marital instincts will unfold in a rapid 
and durable manner.” 

“ What do you infer from those facts ?” said Stan- 
ford. 

They speak volumes,” replied the doctor, for the 
organic necessity and sanctity of marriage, as an in- 
stitution founded in natural law. With legal and 
spiritual endorsement, it is the basis of all true civili- 
zation. Without that endorsement, we are adrift on a 
sea of spiritual affinities and natural passions. Our 
civilization is even now in danger, mainly, I believe, 
on account of the imperfections of marriage among 


17 * 


198 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


The general mind of the white race,” said Den- 
field, unquestionably revolts at the idea of marriage 
with an inferior species, either from the pride of self- 
hood or from an innate sense of propriety. There is, 
indeed, a small but growing class of enthusiasts, 
^higher-law people,’ John Browns, Tolstois, socialists, 
anarchists, who would abandon the old usages, break 
down the ancient barriers, and reconstruct society on the 
model of absolute and perfect equality and fraternity.” 

I must have been born in that class,” said Stan- 
ford, resolutely, “ for my sympathies run strongly with 
some of them. They may err in the steps they take, 
in the measures they recommend, like John Brown, 
Tolstoi, or Henry George ; but their faces are inflexi- 
bly turned in the right direction, and the world will 
follow them at last. I believe, gentlemen, in the 
spiritual solidarity of the human race, and in the final 
composite union of all the races. I believe religiously 
in equality and fraternity. I despise everything which 
alienates and separates man from man. I admire and 
encourage everything which tends to draw God’s creat- 
ures nearer together.” 

We may pursue ideals as ardently as we please,” 
said the doctor, “ but the mills of God grind slowly, 
and we shall be compelled to wait the gradual, imper- 
ceptible, but invincible forces of social evolution.” 

Conceded,” said Stanford ; but every advanced 
thinker is an evolutionary worker in his own time and 
place.” 

‘^And a modifier of public opinion,” added Den- 
field, that tremendous power which is so slowly gen 
emted, so slowly changed.” 


STANFORD STANDS FIRM. 


199 


“ If public opinion/^ said Stanford, be false and 
evil on the race-question, as I believe it to be, then 
work, work, agitate for its amendment. Public opinion 
is only the concrete expression of the thought of the 
majority. The noblest work of thinking men is to 
create a new public opinion. 

But, gentlemen,’’ continued the enthusiast, after a 
brief pause, “ there is still higher ground to take. Do 
not look for truth in any public opinion. Look for it 
in the depths of your own heart, in the secret recesses 
of your nature where God is present. When you not 
only see the truth but feel it, stand loyally by it, 
whether the issue be martyrdom or coronation.” 

^‘You are drunk with conviction,” said Denfield, 
rising and laying his hand on his friend’s arm : Stan- 
ford, you were born to be a martyr.” 

If it be in the cause of human liberty and prog- 
ress, I accept my destiny,” said the Northerner ; and 
the three friends parted in good humor. 

When Ninette Du Valcourt received and read and 
re-read Stanford’s letter, it had a very singular effect 
upon her. She had believed that she was right in her 
convictions and strong in her resolutions. She had 
imagined that nothing could change her mind. In a 
few moments her position was reversed : from positive 
she had become negative. Stanford’s strong words 
had magnetized her. She found it impossible to strug- 
gle or resist. She knew she was passive in his hands, 
and that it could not and ought not to be otherwise. 
She felt that she had a powerful masculine spirit, as 
beautiful and wise as it was strong and brave, to think 
and act for her. She simply acquiesced in his decision, 


200 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


and awaited with tremulous expectation the interview, 
in which she was sure that she would never have the 
sense or the courage to express properly the gratitude 
and love he had inspired. 

Lethe Maxwell had been greatly distressed at 
Ninette’s miserable condition the evening before, and 
when she learned the whole story in the morning, 
she avowed with many tears and protestations that she 
had taken no hand in the exposure. 

“ I was too happy, my child, in seeing you happy. 
I would have carried that secret to my grave. They 
might have cut my heart out, but I never would have 
told it.” 

Ignorant of the contents or even of the reception of 
Stanford’s letter, she supposed that Ninette’s quiet and 
apparently contented manner in the afternoon was the 
result of her own attempts at consolation. For the 
poor old woman had deepened the wounds she at- 
tempted to heal, by assuring Ninette, over and over 
again, that it wouldn’t be half so bad as she antici- 
pated; that there were many good and intelligent 
colored people to associate with; that, although she 
could not go to the opera at night in full-dress, she 
could attend all the matinees, to which every one was 
admitted; that she would be sure to find many ad- 
mirers and lovers ; and that even some white gentle- 
men would take her on moonlight rides to the lake. 
All this would have been insufferable to the poor creat- 
ure, had her mind not been preoccupied with Stanford’s 
letter, which offered a speedy and honorable escape 
from the whole atmosphere of Lethe’s well-intentioned 
but horrible consolations. 


STANFORD STANDS FIRM. 


201 


When Stanford rang the door-bell of No. 7 at nine 
o’clock, Ninette was already listening at the head of 
the stairs, and eagerly ran down to meet him. The 
sprightly chambermaid, with ears alert, heard only two 
words as they met and immediately turned away from 
her. The words were, Ninette !” Hugh !” 

It may be safely asserted that Jackson Square seemed 
more entrancingly beautiful on that moonlit night to 
>ur young couple than it ever did before, or ever will 
again. The first blush of the young rose, the spotless 
white of the magnolia, the delicate perfume of the 
violet, — what poor emblems are they all ! of the tender 
witchery of charm that interplays between two loving 
souls in the golden dawn of the sacred passion ! 

Why should any one desire to play eavesdropper and 
report what they said ? What they said would be an 
altogether different and incalculably poorer thing when 
passed through the minds and mouths of others. The 
celestial language is untranslatable into mortal speech. 
They breathe an air we do not breathe. They see a 
light we cannot see. Let the curtain fall upon “ love’s 
young dream.” 


202 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


CHAPTER XIY. 

THE GRIEVOUS INSULT. 

Stanford easily prevailed upon Ninette to accept 
Colonel Du Valcourt’s offer to place her temporarily 
in charge of Mrs. Octavia Marcelle, the estimable 
widow of a gallant officer, who lived in comparative 
seclusion in a neat little cottage near Washington 
Square. Ninette went every day to see her grand- 
mother in the Pontalba Buildings, and Stanford turned 
his attention with renewed energy to the elucidation 
of the mystery which had brought him to New 
Orleans. 

He had proved the value of Dr. Holden’s advice to 
keep the relics of Gordon Clarke frequently before 
Cora Morette in the hypnotic condition. She had ad- 
vanced step by step into a clearer conception of the 
surroundings of that unfortunate man before his dis- 
appearance. She read from his mind the very sum 
of money which he had about him, even the forms — 
gold, notes, or checks — in which it was held. She 
perceived the plottings of the Meissoniers against him, 
and detected and described their characters. She still 
affirmed that the doctor was cunning, sensual, and 
cruel, and that Madame Lucia was coquette^ toujours 
coquette and n,o cross-examination could make her 
modify her statements. 


THE GRIEVOUS INSULT. 


203 


The young druggist who conducted her hypnotiza- 
tion protested against the deep trances — the trance 
within a trance — into which Stanford desired to have 
her thrown. She seemed deeply distressed in the 
midst of her trance, and always arrived at a point 
where she became absolutely silent. She was very 
much exhausted after following Gordon Clarke^s trunks 
from the hotel to some point away in the suburbs. 
She finally discovered them stored away in an old 
garret room containing various other abandoned and 
useless articles. She described the house so clearly 
that Stanford concluded it must be old Madame For- 
tier’s residence on Esplanade Street, of which Denfield 
had given him an account. 

When he produced the articles which had been bor- 
rowed from Madame Maspero, Cora recognized at once 
the little dress and the coral necklace, as belonging to 
the same child from whom the lock of hair had been 
taken. She repudiated the little shoes, however, and 
could tell nothing about them, which struck Stanford 
as being very singular. The Spanish prayer-book she 
held in her hand a long time, and described a lady, 
whom Stanford of course could not verify, as Mrs. 
Gordon Clarke ; but contemplation of the woman led 
the seeress to the same scene of death by yellow fevei 
which she had described on a former occasion. 

Stanford then gave her the lock of hair which 
Madame Maspero had obtained from the charming 
head of Miss Lilly Montrose. She proceeded to give 
a very good psychometric analysis of that young lady’s 
character, which might have been recognized by every 
intelligent habitue, if such existed, of the Oriental 


204 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


Varieties. She summed up her description with em- 
phatic shrugs of the shoulder and the words, ^^frivolCj 
coquette^ imens^e,” 

Stanford compared the two locks of hair, and in- 
sisted that they came from the head of the same person 
at two different ages of life. 

No, no, no said Cora, with impetuosity and 
earnest gesticulation. 

“ How do you know said Stanford. 

^^Know? When I see an acorn, I know that an 
oak-tree comes from it. Show me a hen’s egg, I fore- 
see a chicken. Every hair, every nail, every line in 
the hand tells something of the character, bears some 
imprint of the personality. No ! no ! These persons 
are very, very different.” 

Stanford reported these interviews to Denfield, and 
they discussed them together. 

^^Cora Morette’s evidence,” said Stanford, would 
lead us to infer that Miss Lillie Montrose is a fraud.” 

Montrose is a fraud,” said the lawyer, ^^and she 
and Maspero are conspirators to obtain money under 
false pretensions. Cora Morette’s evidence may im- 
press you, but I have stronger reasons for my 
opinion.” 

Please state them.” 

“ I detected our pretty widow in a falsehood about 
advertising for the child she pretends to have picked 
up. A lie in the beginning predicts a lie at the end. 
Then she produces a pair of shoes which she says were 
worn by a little child lost and wandering about the 
streets. I examine those shoes carefully with a strong 
magnifier. I do not find the slightest abrasion on the 


THE GRIEVOUS INSULT. 


205 


soles, no stain or mark made by dust, or dirt, or gravel. 
No, sir ! Maspero has not produced the clothing the 
child wore when it disappeared. Those articles were 
taken from Mrs. Gordon Clarke’s trunk. She knows 
what became of the trunk, of the child, and of Gordon 
Clarke.” 

The shoes,” said Stanford, were useless to Cora, 
because the child had never worn them ! Maspero lied, 
and we are close upon her trail. Will you not get out 
a search-warrant at once, and see if those trunks are 
not in old Madame Fortier’s garret ?” 

Not so hastily,” said the lawyer. If those trunks 
have been there for twenty years, they will lie there 
quietly a little longer. Any move in that direction 
would excite the suspicions of the old fox, and all the 
game would escape us.” 

See what a blunder I would have made, and how 
wise it was to secure a good lawyer !” 

For that compliment you deserve a lunch at the 
Pickwick Club,” said Denfield, smiling; ^^pompano, 
woodcock, champagne frapp6 ! Come !” 

They repaired to the magnificent club-house indicated, 
which has forty rooms handsomely furnished, every one 
in a different style. Denfield ordered his lunch, and 
they passed into the grand reception-rooms and parlors. 
Gentlemen were standing or sitting about in groups 
discussing private affairs or the questions of the day. 
Any one strolling around but listening intently would 
soon have discovered that the chief topic of these little 
conversations was the terrible discovery that Ninette Du 
Valcourt was of African descent. Such sentences as 
these would have met his ear from different sources ; 


206 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


Sorry for Du Valcourt. He is a splendid old 
fellow, proud, high-spirited, sensitive/^ 

Miss Villemaine will profit by this/^ 

^^She might have kept the villanous secret to 
herself/^ 

I don’t believe a word of it, I tell you. She hasn’t 
even the violet tint in the crescent of the finger-nail, 
which reveals so little as the one hundred and twenty- 
eighth part of African blood.” 

It was a terrible faux pas to leave her father’s 
house : the matter could have been hushed up.” 

The women drove her out, you may be sure.” 

She will find consolation ; the tears of pretty 
women are soon dried.” 

I bet her northern lover will desert her now ; they 
hate negroes worse than we do.” (From a dude.) 

Denfield and Stanford drew near to a group of five 
or six young gentlemen, seated around a middle-aged 
man of fine, soldierly appearance, who seemed to be an 
oracle with them. He had a frank, handsome face, 
kept smoothly shaven, large, bright hazel eyes, and a 
voice singularly musical and persuasive. This person 
was Colonel Chester McLean, a distinguished lawyer, 
and a welcome guest in the highest social circles. 

Chester McLean was a Virginian of a fine old 
family, who recognized the value of a pure ancestral 
current. It’s all in the blood” was his expression, 
indicating a profound faith in the laws of heredity. 
He was barely twenty years old when he left the Vir- 
ginia Military Institute at tlie first tap of the confed- 
erate drum to engage in the war. He was known as 
^Hhe boy-captain,” and he handled his company in 


THE GRIEVOUS INSULT. 


207 


several of the great battles with the skill and courage 
of a veteran. He was one of Pickett’s men in that 
superb charge on the third day at Gettysburg. He 
was left for dead on the field, close to the federal can- 
non, grasping in his right hand a pearl-handled sword, 
the gift of his mother. He recovered, was promoted, 
and fought it out, until his shattered regiment stacked 
arms at Appomattox, many of its wounded heroes 
shedding angry tears at the necessity of surrender. 

McLean was not a dissipated man, but he was a high 
liver, a boon companion, and so frank and lovable in 
his ways that he was a favorite with man and woman. 
He was a bachelor, and so very hasty was he and im- 
petuous in the expression of his opinions, that he had 
sometimes to apologize for their utterance. This he 
always did in the most graceful manner, and, as no man 
had ever doubted his courage, a readiness to apologize 
was added to the list of his virtues. 

McLean, either thoughtless or careless of the presence 
of Stanford, whom he knew to be a northern man and 
a frequent visitor at Du Yalcourt’s, exclaimed aloud to 
one of his party, — 

Yes, Charlie, you are right. When a woman falls 
a hair’s-breadth below the white line, like Miss Du 
Yalcourt, she becomes the legitimate prey of any club- 
man who can meet the expenses.” 

Several murmurs of dissent were heard, and Denfield 
called out, reproachfully, — 

‘^^You are wrong, McLean: you are too rash, too 
positive: you are unjust.” 

But it was upon Stanford that the words made the 
deepest impression. At first he turned deadly pale, as 


208 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

if he had received a shock which had driven all the 
blood in his body back upon the heart. When that 
organ reacted, his face reddened with anger to the roots 
of his hair. His eyes glistened, his hand was raised, 
and his looks and attitude were such, that McLean 
. and his friends sprang to their feet before a word was 
uttered. 

Your language, sir,” he exclaimed, ^4s that of rouis 
* and blacklegs.” 

McLean flushed in his turn, without the preceding 
pallor, and said, quickly and sternly, — 

If you have a drop of gentlemanly blood in your 
veins, sir, you will give me the satisfaction I have a 
right to demand of you, for classifying me with in- 
famous characters.” 

Stanford’s muscles grew rigid ; his face lit up with 
scorn ; he looked fixedly at McLean as one gladiator 
of old might have looked into the eyes of another, and 
exclaimed, — 

‘‘You can obtain your satisfaction, sir, here and 
now.” 

McLean stepped back, with a graceful wave of the 
hand : his self-possession was complete. 

“We are not canaille. My friends will wait upon 
you, sir.” And he turned away. 

Stanford was about to follow and speak, but Denfield 
seized his arm and drew him away. 

“ Come,” he said, “ our lunch is ready.” 

This scene, witnessed by all, created considerable 
excitement in the room, and various were the comments 
made upon it. 

“ That’s a plucky fellow. I’ll wager.” 


THE GRIEVOUS INSULT. 209 

He must have been deeply attached to that young 
girl to run such risks for her/’ 

There’ll be one seat permanently vacant at some 
Chicago table. McLean is a dead shot.” 

He was ready enough for a fisticuff ; I wonder how 
he’ll stand fire.” 

“ McLean was very much in the wrong. This thing 
must be settled amicably, for the credit of the club.” 

The young dude, who had ventured the idea that 
‘^Northerners hate negroes worse than we do,” now 
shifted his opinion through the quicksands of his mind 
to the other side, and exclaimed, — 

“ Those northern fellows always take up for negroes, 
anyhow.” 

Stanford must have had a wonderful power of self- 
control, if that is evinced by a rapid transition from a 
state of the highest excitement to one of perfect calm. 
He conversed with his usual quiet affability on in- 
different matters. Not once during the lunch did either 
gentleman allude to the quarrel or its probable results. 

When they parted, however, Denfield took his friend’s 
hand and said, gently, — 

“You will be challenged to fight a duel. Promise 
me that you will not accept it until Dr. Holden and 
myself have conversed with you on the subject. I will 
bring him to your room at the H6tel Royal soon after 
three o’clock, when court adjourns.” 

Stanford thanked the lawyer for the friendly interest 
he took in the affairs of a comparative stranger, and 
promised to comply with his wishes. He had very 
soon another occasion to express his gratitude. He 
had scarcely parted with Denfield, when two hand- 

O 18 * 


210 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


some, stylish, youDg Creole gentlemen approached him, 
Mr. Mercier Legendre and Mr. Arthur De Poincy, 
both of whom he had met, frequently at the clubs 
and occasionally at Du Yalcourt^s. 

^AVe were present,” said Mr. Legendre, ‘^at the un- 
fortunate colhsion which took place between yourself 
and Colonel McLean. Without endorsing what you 
said to that gentleman, we admire your courage and 
spirit in resenting his unnecessary and ungenerous 
language. A challenge will be made. You are a 
stranger in this city, ignorant probably of these mat- 
ters and how to conduct them. Besides, we know you 
will feel a natural delicacy about asking any one to 
assist you in so grave a matter. We are au fait in 
everything relating to the code, and we beg you not to 
hesitate a moment to command our services, if you 
feel inclined to accept this challenge. Our friend Dr. 
Mireaux will gladly accompany us in the capacity of 
surgeon. A call by letter or telephone to the Pick- 
wick Club will receive our immediate attention.” 

Stanford, touched by the considerate politeness and 
friendliness of these gentlemen, thanked them cordially, 
and assured them he would accept their services if they 
should be needed. 

Our hero then retired to his room, and proceeded to 
contemplate in solitude the unexpected and serious con- 
tingency which had arisen in his life. He had been 
educated in a part of the country where no such event 
as a duel had ever occurred, and where that mode of 
combat was regarded with proper disgust as a relic of 
barbarism. His instincts, his training, his personal 
convictions, were all against it. But the direct insult 


THE GRIEVOUS INSULT 


211 


to Ninette was so unspeakable, and the sweeping asser- 
tion by McLean of the unchastity of all women a 
hair^s-breadth below the white line was so outrageous, 
that it took him a good while to quiet down from a 
state of suppressed indignation. 

At length he succeeded in facing the whole problem 
fairly and deliberately. He considered it from every 
point of view, individual, social, and general. He 
finally made up his mind what course to adopt, and, 
without imposing an oath upon the recording angel to 
carry, — for he never swore, — he struck his hand for- 
cibly upon the table before him, and exclaimed, — 

I will accept the challenge 

He occupied an hour or two of the time left him in 
writing, as all duellists do, letters of business or of 
adieu to friends and relations, not to be delivered un- 
less he perished in the combat. The most important 
letters were directed to Ninette and to Mr. Ephraim 
Clarke. To the latter he wrote, in extenuation of his 
course, “ Could the North have declined to accept the 
challenge of the South when she fired upon Fort 
Sumter?’’ To Ninette he said, “Your fair fame 
is infinitely precious to me.” And yet this young 
gentleman had actually persuaded himself that his 
decision had been dictated by reason unbiassed by 
affection ! 

Denfield and Dr. Holden entered the room just after 
the appointed time. Their faces were as grave as if 
they came to take part in a funeral ceremony. Stan- 
ford’s manner was bright and cheerful. 

“Dear Stanford,” said the sympathetic doctor, grasp- 
ing his hand warmly, “ I would express my profound 


212 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


regret at finding you in this painful position, and from 
no misconduct of your own/^ 

It is less painful/’ said Stanford, because I am 
not in fault.” 

True, true,” said the doctor'; but I am shocked 
that a blameless, amiable fellow like you, and a stranger 
here besides, should have become embroiled with these 
Southern hot-bloods in such a manner. We have called 
to see if we cannot suggest, or negotiate, or invent some 
peaceful solution of the difficulty.” 

^^The peaceful solution of the difficulty,” he replied, 
rests entirely with Colonel McLean. He can stay 
the proceedings, as the lawyers say, by full retraction 
and apology.” 

‘^And that seems out of the question,” said the 
doctor, sadly. With two of his most intimate friends, 
I called upon McLean, but we found him inflexible. 
He has always been so amiable, so accommodative, so 
manageable, I may say, that we anticipated no difficulty 
in getting him to make a proper apology for his violent 
and unjust expressions. He is acting in a very singular 
manner. He is not only obstinate, but — so utterly 
unlike himself — he is reticent and uncommunicative. 
He does not defend his own conduct; he does not 
blame you ; he simply says, in the most emphatic 
manner, that the duel must take place.” 

If such be the mood of my opponent,” said Stan- 
ford, quietly, my declination of his challenge would 
not terminate the difficulty.” 

^^No,” said Denfield, gravely. ^^He would post 
you as a liar and a coward, or he would make a street- 
fight of it.” 


THE GRIEVOUS INSULT. 


213 


'^All fighting is diabolical/^ said the doctor, earn- 
estly ; prize-fights, duels, battles, — the whole arena 
and spirit of contention are essentially devilish. The 
duel has been chased by legal enactments from almost 
every civilized country. It originated in the Middle 
Ages with the French aristocracy, but even here in 
Louisiana, where that spirit still largely prevails, duel- 
ling is a penal offence. It is, indeed, a punishable 
crime in every Southern State. The duellists must 
leave home and invade another territory to fight in, 
and they must immediately fly its jurisdiction when 
the fight is over, to escape arrest. The best sentiment 
of the world is against duelling, and nothing can be 
said in its vindication.’’ 

^^I believe, said Denfield, ^^that struggle, combat, 
war, are necessary elements in the evolution and final 
elevation of the human race. Men will fight, must 
fight, and ought to fight, until they attain that stage 
of evolution when it will be unnecessary or even in- 
jurious and retardative. Many individuals and even 
communities have already attained that stage, but they 
should not wish, like the doctor, to impose their 
^ higher-law’ principles upon the masses who are creep- 
ing up slowly behind them. I condone all the fight- 
ing of past ages and that which still exists among 
semi-civilized peoples, but I insist that right here, 
to-day, in the United States, duelling is an extinct 
volcano, from which no more eruption is to be ex- 
pected, or at most a little puff of smoke and ashes.” 

What do you suggest, then,” said Stanford, since 
Colonel McLean insists upon the combat ?” 

‘‘To insist upon arbitration,” said Denfield. “All 


214 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


those difficulties should be settled by arbitration, and a 
vigorous public opinion should be cultivated which 
will tolerate no other solution. When McLean^s chal- 
lenge comes, decline it, on the ground that a duel 
would do nothing to settle the question at issue. Offer 
to submit the case, and the points as to who should 
apologize and how it should be done, to three honor- 
able gentlemen. This community will approve and 
sustain you, and there will be no question of your 
courage or honor.” 

There is higher ground to take, Mr. Stanford,” said 
the doctor, appealingly. ^^Eise to the level of your 
own spiritual convictions. Forgive the insulter and 
forget the insult. Set a superb example to these young 
gentlemen by ignoring the whole matter. Courage is a 
poor, barbaric virtue in comparison with that brotherly 
love which takes no offence and thinks no evil.” 

^^The kingdom of heaven is not yet inaugurated 
upon earth,” suggested Mr. Denfield. 

The church,” said the doctor, is the kingdom of 
heaven upon earth, and woe to it ! if it obeys not the 
plainest commands of the Master : forgive your ene- 
mies, love those who hate you, pray for those who 
persecute you.” 

“ I would willingly submit,” said Stanford, to the 
arbitration which Mr. Denfield proposes, but Colonel 
McLean has already blocked the way to any com- 
promise or conciliation. I am profoundly touched by 
Dr. Holden’s words. He expresses my own real sen- 
timents : he holds before me my own long-cherished 
ideal. The Scripture says, ‘ Let him that thinketh he 
Btandeth take heed lest he fall.’ I have not heeded 


THE GRIEVOUS INSULT. 


215 


the warning. I thought I was secure in my position. 
Under the pressure of circumstances I have fallen. 
My resolution was unstable as water. I cannot rise 
above the level of my surroundings. In Rome I am 
merely Roman. 

There was such genuine humility in Stanford’s tone 
that Holden gently remarked, — 

Your provocation was very great.” 

“ Think of it !” said Stanford, with flashing eyes, 
as the miserable scene burst again upon his mental 
vision. “ The woman to whom I have pledged my life 
and love has been grievously insulted in a manner 
which admits of no extenuation. If I had just risen, 
sir, from reading the Sermon on the Mount, and had 
just sworn to live according to its heavenly precepts, 
and the next moment should discover a tramp attack- 
ing my mother, I should knock the villain down and 
kick him out of doors. Blood is thicker than water, 
gentlemen ! and God will pardon something to the 
righteous impetuosities of human nature. 

I know. Dr. Holden, what you would say, — that 
God forgives all things, and we must do the same. 
There are two degrees in the evolution of the spiritual 
life. That highest and holiest degree, in which the 
other cheek is turned to the smiter, has been seldom 
unfolded in the human race. In the lower degree in 
which we live at present, resistance to evil is a virtue, 
and it cannot be made without difficulty, danger, and 
sacrifice. 

I protest against McLean’s position, that every 
woman a hair’s-breadth below the white line is an un- 
chaste and purchasable creature, as a base falsehood, 


216 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


founded upon a baser theory and philosophy of life. 
I have branded his assertion with its true name and 
character, and I cannot change it in the face of death. 
Nor am I, gentlemen, a self-constituted, quixotic 
champion of the colored race. This issue has been 
suddenly, violently forced upon me. I am simply 
true to the voice of my own heart. It is the manhood 
within me that speaks. If the Christhood, which is 
latent in us all, does not approve, it will forgive.” 

The friends were deeply impressed by the lofty yet 
quiet enthusiasm which pervaded Stanford’s words and 
manner, and the almost spiritual light which shone in 
his face. 

All of which means,” said the doctor, with a sigh, 
as he rose to his feet, that you will accept McLean’s 
challenge.” 

It is my painful duty under the circumstances to 
accept the challenge.” 

^^And become the martyr that I predicted,” said 
Denfield. 

Man proposes, God disposes,” said Stanford ; and 
the friends sadly bade him adieu. 

That young man,” said Holden to Denfield, “ is 
capable of rising to the highest height on any other 
question ; but love is blind.” 

Soon afterwards Mr. Ferdinand Canova and Mr. 
Alexis Du Pr6 appeared as bearers of Colonel McLean’s 
challenge. They were referred to Stanford’s young 
friends at the Pickwick Club. In an hour more the 
whole affair was arranged. Place, mouth of Pearl 
Eiver, Mississippi side ; time, next morning at 8.30 ; 
weapons, duelling pistols ; distance, twenty steps. 


THE GRIEVOUS INSULT. 


217 


Stanford of course spent that evening with Ninette 
Du Valcourt. It was her reception-day at the home 
she had abandoned, and she was deeply gratified at the 
visits she had received from two very dear friends, 
who found out where she was located and sent in their 
cards. 

The first who called was an impetuous, gushing, 
lovely girl, who threw herself upon Ninette’s neck, 
and vowed that she never would believe a word of that 
silly story, and that if forty lawyers were to prove it true 
she would snap her fingers at them all, — for nothing, 
nothing in the world should ever separate her from her 
own, sweet, abused, darling, lovely Ninette ! 

From the other visitor she received a profounder 
satisfaction. She was a married lady of the highest 
standing and culture, and possessed those fascinating 
manners of the best Creole society which are rarely 
equalled and never surpassed anywhere in the world. 
She did not make the least allusion to Ninette’s changed 
condition or the causes of it, but engaged her in pleasant 
conversation on passing matters, so that when she took 
her leave, which she did in her usual charming way 
and without effusiveness, Ninette felt as quiet and 
happy as if she had never left the Du Valcourt man- 
sion, and as if all the recent disturbing events had 
been a dream. 

Stanford heard these incidents with pleasure, for 
they convinced him of what he was already disposed 
to believe, that Rose Villemaine, Mrs. Singwell, and 
the dude at the Pickwick Club did not represent the 
best elements of New Orleans society. 

It is difficult for a candid, sincere man like Stanford 
19 


K 


218 


A MFjSTIJRr OF NEW ORLEANS. 


to wear two faces ; to maintain a happy, smiling, love- 
making exterior, and to conceal an aching, apprehen- 
sive heart in his bosom. The thought that his death 
might leave Ninette permanently in her present painful 
condition was torture to him. If he killed McLean, 
the outlook was desolate. Yet Ninette must not get 
the least hint of the impending duel. 

For some unexplained reason, perhaps the secret 
sympathy of true lovers, Ninette was not as bright 
and cheerful as usual. Stanford rallied her from her 
apparent dejection by classing her with the romantic 
young ladies who sigh yet feel no pain, who weep and 
know not why. He made his own conversation as 
brilliant and interesting as possible. Her vague ap- 
prehensions were dissipated, and, when he kissed her 
good-night with more than usual fervor, she recognized 
only the warmth of his affection, while in his own 
thought, the ardor of love was mingled with the im- 
pressiveness of a possibly last adieu. 


THE DUEL. 


219 


CHAPTER XY. 

THE DUEL. 

The outward-bound morning mail train on tbe 
Mobile road carried ten persons in the smoking-car, 
who excited the curiosity of the officials and the other 
passengers. 

They were not smokiug nor playing cards, so they 
must have selected that part of the train for compara- 
tive privacy. They were divided into two parties, five 
in each, occupying seats far apart. They must have 
been strangers to each other, or they were unfriendly. 
Each group had a well-known surgeon with it, and 
each surgeon had with him a box, about eighteen by 
twelve inches and four deep. Then, again, one of the 
gentlemen in each group had a box not quite so large 
and covered with green baize. The parties in each 
group conversed together in low tones, and paid no 
attention either to the scenery or to the other passengers. 

These things were noted one by one by the porter, 
the conductor, the brakesman, the newsboy, and a few 
early smoking travellers. Put together and discussed 
on the platform in whispered conversations, they led 
at last to the conclusion that these gentlemen were 
bound for the Mississippi coast to fight a duel. There 
was the regulation number of the Code of Honor, five 
persons, in each group, — the principal, the two seconds, 


220 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


the surgeon, and the referee. One set of cases contained 
pistols for the bloody work, and the other set of cases 
contained surgical appliances for such repairs as might 
be possible after the fight was over. All of which was 
true. 

This solution of the mystery passed rapidly from 
mouth to mouth, and soon everybody on the train, the 
ladies especially, seemed deeply interested in the affair. 
Every man seemed to have occasion to pass through 
the smoking-car, or to peer into it from the platform. 
Every woman was broiling on the gridiron of curiosity 
to know what it was about, who were the parties, 
where they were going, and how they all looked. As 
no true knowledge of the facts could be obtained, im- 
agination ran riot as usual and invented what it pleased. 

One of the inspecting gentlemen said, — 

I know none of the parties but Colonel McLean. 
If he does any of the shooting, the other man is ffoing* 
to be killed.^^ 

Another gentleman entertained a large hearing by 
telling how he went out one morning several years be- 
fore on this same train, with Colonel Rhett and Judge 
Cooley and their assistants; how bravely and gayly 
the judge conducted himself, while Rhett was grave 
and silent ; how they got out just beyond Pearl River, 
and fought under the lofty pine-trees on the grass still 
wet with dew ; how Cooley fell at the first fire, with a 
bullet in his heart; and how all the others shook 
friendly hands over the dead body : all for a few words 
in a newspaper ! 

The train rattled through the swamps which lie in 
the rear of New Orleans, and on over that wonderful 


TEE DUEL. 


221 


prairie tremblantey growing harder and firmer each suc- 
cessive century, that stretches many miles, a sea of 
weed and grass, between Lakes Pontchartrain and 
Borgne. Passing the long, curved bridge over the 
deep strait known as the Bigolets, it whistled away like 
some wild, scared creature racing for life, until it 
crossed Pearl Biver, and stood smoking and wheez- 
ing among the pines and live-oaks of the Mississippi 
beach. 

Ten of the passengers, with heavy hearts no doubt, 
rapidly descended from the train. All the others 
crowded to the platforms and windows, ladies and 
gentlemen, and the silent waving of hats and hand- 
kerchiefs showed that the terrible business of these 
early travellers had been detected. The locomotive 
screamed its adieu, and one party moved off on their 
rounds of business or pleasure, while the other party, 
lifting their hats to their late fellow-passengers, as the 
train passed by, turned into the woods for the trial of 
life or death. 

The Mississippi beach early on a bright spring 
morning is sometimes as still and silent as a picture. 
Away off through the tall and scattered pines, there 
being no undergrowth, you see the blue waters of the 
Gulf of Mexico, calm and unbroken as a mirror in 
motionless splendor. Perhaps a single sail is in sight, 
like the white wing of some great bird poised just 
above the waves. You can hear the insects in the 
grass, the squirrel scrambling up a tree, the faint song 
of some hidden bird, or the lowing of cattle in some 
remote pasture. 

The quietude of early morning is different from that 
19 * 


222 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


of evening. One is an expectant hush of nature be- 
fore it breaks joyously out into life and sound and 
beauty. The other is a dreamy stillness, passing into 
deeper and still deeper shadow and silence. 

Just such a peaceful morning scene and expectant 
hush of nature was now invaded by our duelling 
parties. There was no demonstration nor bravado. 
They moved quietly through the woods,, as if they 
were a party of surveyors or of students in geology or 
botany. Their low conversation was entirely common- 
place. They approached two great wide-spreading 
live-oaks, so near together that their branches almost 
touched. 

Here, gentlemen,” said Du Pr6, nature has pre- 
pared for us a dense and beautiful shade.” 

^^Yes,” answered Legendre, ^^this is charming. 
We can all keep out of the sunlight and there is no 
need to cast lots for choice of position.” 

One principal with his surgeon stood under each of 
the trees, while the seconds and referees retired to a 
little distance to hold the conventional conference, 
to ascertain whether any reconciliation could be ef- 
fected or at least some peaceable adjustment of the 
difficulty. 

The conference was short and ineffectual. Mr. 
Stanford’s friends were willing to withdraw his violent 
and offensive language if Colonel McLean would re- 
tract and apologize, or they were willing to submit to 
an arbitration. Colonel McLean’s friends, under in- 
structions from their principal, declined to retract or 
apologize, or to accept any retraction or apology, and 
would not submit to arbitration. They politely ex- 


THE DUEL. 


223 


pressed their own very great surprise and profound 
regret at the obstinate and apparently vindictive posi- 
tion of their principal. The parley ended with Mr. 
Legendre’s remark, — 

“ Let us proceed to business.” 

The order agreed upon was this : the principals to 
stand facing each other, twenty steps apart, with loaded 
pistols held perpendicularly down at the side. But 
one word was to be spoken, the word Fire !” and 
that was to be given by the senior of the four seconds, 
Mr. Canova. After the word Fire !” they were to 
shoot at pleasure, but not to advance a step towards 
each other. These were the conditions of the great 
duel in which General Andrew Jackson killed Mr. 
Dickinson of Nashville. 

The twenty steps were now measured off, which 
brought Stanford into the shade of one oak and Mc- 
Lean into the shade of the other. There was a little 
patch of sunshine on the ground about half-way be- 
tween them. On that little shining space fluttered 
invisible the Angel of Peace, with a warning hand 
uplifted each way. 

The principals took the position and attitude as- 
signed them in silence. The groups of men bowed 
to each other respectfully, and then became erect and 
ready for the ordeal. Stanford’s conduct during the 
whole morning had been quiet and natural. His face 
was now a trifle pale, but his handsome and intelligent 
features indicated inflexible resolution. It was clear 
that the Northerner who had never seen a battle was 
as brave and self-possessed as the Southerner who had 
been one of Pickett’s men.” The group of Louisi- 


224 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


anians regarded him with silent admiration, for they 
recognized that his physical and his moral courage 
were equally great. 

The minds of men in moments of great peril or 
just preceding death are often occupied with the most 
trivial things. Memory especially is exceedingly active. 
In the minute or two occupied in getting into position, 
Stanford recalled with inconceivable velocity many 
things he had seen and heard in New Orleans. Madame 
CaprelFs words flashed upon his mind, ^^Two great 
dangers are ahead of you : one you will bring rashly 
upon yourself ; the other will befall you from secret 
enemies.^^ This is the first danger, he reasoned ; if I 
am to meet with another, I cannot perish in this. In 
a moment he felt perfectly confident of a prolonged 
life. Did he believe Madame Caprelhs apparently 
ridiculous prophecy ? Perhaps so ; there is a vein of 
credulity on some subject in us all, and many of our 
so-called superstitions are indestructible, because some 
latent truth is concealed within them. 

At last Mr. Canova called out the fatal word Fire !’^ 
in a loud, quick voice. There were two flashes of 
light and apparently but one report, for both gentle- 
men fired in precisely the same instant, and both fired 
into the air. Before the assistants could recover from 
their astonishment. Colonel McLean dashed his pistol 
upon the ground and advanced towards Stanford. 

The code requires,’’ shouted Du Pr6, intending to 
go on and say that all communications between the 
principals must be made through the medium of the 
seconds ; but McLean interrupted him. 

Damn the code !” he exclaimed, and advanced, 


THE DUEL. 225 

proffering his hand to Stanford, while all the other 
gentlemen crowded around the principals. 

Mr. Stanford,” said he, in a voice full of emotion, 
I retract every word I uttered yesterday at the club ; 
and I desire to make you and all whom I insulted by 
my remarks a sincere apology.” 

It is accepted without hesitation, sir,” said Stan- 
ford, extending his hand, and my own offensive lan- 
guage is gladly withdrawn.” 

You are a thousand times better man than I am,” 
McLean continued. I did not intend to hurt a hair 
of your head. I beg the honor of your friendship.” 

Bravo ! bravo !” cried the eight other men, swing- 
ing their hats over their heads. 

This termination of our difficulty,” said Stanford, 
surprises as much as it pleases me. But pray tell me, 
if you held such sentiments all the time, why did you 
allow the matter to proceed to such extremities ?” 

“You see,” said McLean, “as soon as I uttered the 
hateful words which have caused our trouble, I felt that 
I had said a very false and preposterous thing. If you 
had charged me with wrong to that extent, I would 
probably have retracted at once. But your very violent 
language and manner, perfectly justifiable as they were, 
roused the old fighting quality in me, and I challenged. 
But I have been on the stool of repentance ever since. 
The more I thought of the ugly and slanderous spirit 
implied in my words, the more I regretted having ut- 
tered them. The more I thought of your spirited defence 
of the meek and helpless from the arrogance of a su- 
perior race, the more I admired you. I now love you.” 

“Par nobile fratruniy^ suggested Dr. Yernon, who 


226 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

had come out as McLean’s surgeon. At which there 
were renewed bravos and swinging of hats. 

If you did not intend to kill me/’ said Stanford, 
why did you run the risk of being killed ?” 

As a matter of expiation, sir ! I ought to have been 
killed, and I never, never could have been satisfied 
until I had given you the chance to shoot me. Now I 
am happy.” 

But now, Mr. Stanford,” said Legendre, explain 
to us why you came out to fire in the air.” 

“ I did not come out to fire in the air. I came out 
to fight. I never thought of firing into the air until 
the moment before I did so. And now, gentlemen, I 
must tell you the truth, in the face of your opinions and 
prejudices. Just before the word ‘ Fire !’ was uttered, 
at that supreme moment, my mind was visited by a 
rush of ideas, a tornado of thoughts, instincts, intuitions, 
teachings, reasons, sentiments. It seems impossible that 
so much mental action could be crowded into a moment 
of time. The concentrated spirit of Christian civiliza- 
tion was breathed upon me. I remembered Holden’s 
words of yesterday, ^ Forgive the insulter and forget the 
insult.’ I exclaimed to myself, ^ This is barbaric ! this 
is damnable ! I had rather be killed than to kill a man 
under these circumstances.’ And I fired into the air, 
without the least suspicion that Colonel McLean was 
going to do the same thing.” 

McLean had received a religious education in his old 
Virginia home, and he was tender-hearted and impres- 
sible as he was brave. He seized Stanford by the hand, 
aud, with tears in his eyes, he exclaimed, — 

This duelling-ground, sir, has been a church to me 


THE DUEL. 


227 


to-day, and the sermon you have preached in it has 
touched me to the heart. I vow never, never to fight 
a duel again.’^ 

At that moment the whistle of the ingoing accom- 
modation train, which had been engaged by telegraph 
to stop for them, was heard in the distance. 

^^Come, gentlemen,” said McLean, ‘^let us hasten 
home. You are all to lunch with me at the West End 
Hotel. At the next station we will telegraph Du Val- 
court, Holden, and Denfield to join us, and we will 
make as happy and lucky a party of thirteen as ever 
sat down to a table, in the face of superstition.” 

Let us all be thankful,” said De Poiucy, that a 
duel instigated by such uncommon motives has termi- 
nated in such a remarkable manner.” 

The passengers on the accomodation train had learned 
that a duel was progressing near the mouth of Pearl 
River, and that the party, or what remained of it, 
would be taken aboard. The engine had no soonei 
come to a halt than a crowd of men and boys poured 
out of the cars and rushed towards the party, expecting 
to see a bloody corpse, or perhaps two of them, lying 
upon the ground. The windows were crowded with 
female faces. The gentlemen who excited such interest 
seemed all in a jolly good humor, and they boarded the 
cars so quickly that the crowd had to scamper back in 
great haste and confusion. As the new-comers were 
reticent and said nothing about the late unpleasantness, 
the curiosity of the passengers subsided into disgust, 
and most of them, feeling that they had been cheated 
out of an expected sensation, agreed with the newsboy, 
who remarked, with a sneer, — 


228 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

It’s a hunky-dory ! Ten stout fellows a-fightin’, 
and not a scratch atween ’em !” 

So soon as the train reached the city, however, the 
reporters, who had got wind of the matter, proceeded 
to pick up every floating rumor they could hear. The 
unveracity of first reports is proverbial, and the state- 
ments of evening editions have often to be corrected 
in the issues of the next morning. 

Extras were soon flying all over the city, shot forth 
by those winged Mercuries of the press, the newsboys, 
always exultant and exaggerative over every new sen- 
sation. This was the tenor of their cries : 

Extra Times ! Extra Times ! 

Great duel near Pearl Piver ! 

Chicago swell and New Orleans swell ! 

All about a colored girl ! 

Chicago first ! Orleans pinked in the head ! 

“ Extra Times ! Extra Times 

One of the street gamins yelled those ominous words 
immediately under Mrs. Marcelle’s window. Ninette 
heard them, and started up, frightened and bewildered. 

Duel ! Chicago ! colored girl ! O mercy ! Can 
that have any reference to Hugh Stanford ?” 

She sprang to the door, but the winged Mercury had 
darted across the street, in obedience to a signal from 
that direction, and could not be recalled. Ere long, 
however, another specimen of the species came along 
with the same cry. She was waiting at the door, and, 
seizing the miserable little slip which was causing her so 
much anxiety, she hurried back into the house, without 
waiting for her change. 

Golly !” said the newsboy, staring at the quarter 


THE DUEL. 229 

of a dollar in his hand ; if she wasn^t so white I’d 
think she was the colored girl they fought about.” 

She ascertained, from the extra, that Mr. Stan- 
ford, of Chicago, having been insulted by Colonel Mc- 
Lean, on account of his approaching marriage with a 
beautiful woman of African descent, had challenged 
that distinguished gentleman to mortal combat ; that a 
duel had taken place on Mississippi soil near the 
mouth of Pearl River ; that both parties had behaved 
with conspicuous gallantry ; that Colonel McLean had 
been slightly wounded in the head ; and that a Missis- 
sippi sheriff armed with a requisition was in pursuit 
of the offenders. 

This story, adorned with imaginative flourishes, 
came about as near to the truth as what is called his- 
tory generally comes. It inflicted great and unneces- 
sary pain upon the innocent and charming cause of all 
the trouble. 

She walked her little room weeping and occasion- 
ally wringing her hands. 

He not only insists upon marrying me, knowing 
my descent, but he challenges, fights, and wounds one of 
the bravest of the confederate veterans for some real or 
supposed insult to me. O the folly, the madness of 
men ! O my precious, incomparable Hugh !” 

Her innate delicacy restrained her from rushing, as 
her impulses dictated, to get news of her lover from 
mutual friends. She despatched Madame Marcelle, 
however, to Colonel Du Valcourt’s office, with the 
extra in her hand, to beg him to obtain all the in- 
formation he could about the affair and relieve her 
tormenting anxiety. 


20 


230 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


O men ! men ! If you only knew how often women 
watch and wait for you, pray for you, weep for you, 
condoning your follies, your thoughtlessness, your 
neglect ! and how they welcome your late return with 
beaming smiles, concealing the pain in their own hearts, 
hiding everything from you that would vex you, how 
sweetly and tenderly you would deal with them ! 

Hugh Stanford's earnest desire on reaching the city 
was to slip away from the lunch-party, and hurry off 
to Ninette and give her his own version of the affair. 
Indeed, he was canght in the very act, and brought 
back amid the shouts of his persecutors, who suspected 
his intentions. They could not and would not put up 
with the absence or even the late appearance of the 
hero of the day at the festive board. 

While the lunch was being prepared (what New 
Orleans society people call lunch is a magnificent din- 
ner), the thirteen gentlemen sat upon the great plat- 
form in front of the hotel, underneath which the waters 
of Lake Pontchartrain perpetually roll, and discussed 
the various topics of the day. The white sails of the 
lumber and charcoal schooners and sloops gleamed afar 
out on the waters. The steamer Camelia’^ on her daily 
trip across the lake was creeping along the horizon, 
scarcely visible herself, but emitting a tremendous trail 
of black smoke behind her. A few fishermen in skiffs 
near the shore were playing the usual game of entice- 
ment with the finny tribes. The Rowing Club Houses, 
deserted of oarsmen, gleamed in the sunshine. The 
labyrinth was empty. The flying-horses were resting 
in the merry-go-round. The little confectioneries and 
beer-saloons were idle, waiting for the advent of the 


THE DUEL. 231 

crowd and the evening orchestra. All was lovely and 
serene. 

Dr. Holden,” said McLean, in the course of a dis- 
cussion of the race-problem, ^^what do you think of 
the claim made in certain quarters, that the negro 
population is increasing relatively so much faster than 
the white that in a hundred years the negro will domi- 
nate the whole country ?” 

There is no truth in the assertion, sir. We have 
not had an honest negro census since the war, nor are 
we likely to have one under political auspices. The 
death-rate among negroes is invariably greater than 
among the whites in every town and county in the 
South. The negro is more prolific, because he marries 
early, and often regardless of circumstances and ignor- 
ing the moral checks to population which prevail with 
the white man. With increased education and moral 
growth he will become less prolific. Even now his 
greater birth-rate is overbalanced by a greater death- 
rate. 

Then, we must remember there is no black immigra- 
tion into this country. The white immigration into the 
South, both from Europe and the Northern States and 
Canada, is constantly increasing. Instead of the black 
race exceeding the white race in numbers and control- 
ling the land, the pressure of white population will in- 
evitably drive the surplus of negroes over our industrial 
demands into Mexico, and into the W est India Islands, 
or even over into Africa, the natural habitat of the 
black man.” 

Then the dream of Henry Clay and the coloniza- 
tionists will be realized,” said Stanford. 


232 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

Not for a long, long time,” answered the doctor. 

Africa is not yet sufficiently prepared by civilizing 
influences for the American negro ; and the American 
negro has as yet no strong hereditary conception of 
liberty and Christianity which would prevent him from 
being sucked back into the whirlpool of barbarism in 
two or three generations.” 

In the mean time,” said Denfield, we are com- 
pelled to face the race-problem.” 

‘^The race-problem will solve itself,” said Du Val- 
court, when both races are imbued with the princi- 
ples of liberty and Christianity.” 

When will that be ?” said Denfleld. Not till the 
slums of London and Paris and New York have be- 
come centres of righteousness and peace. Do you see 
any signs of it ? any hope for it ? any way to it ?” 

Our present troubles,” said McLean, “ come from 
the coarser, more lawless, and ignorant elements on 
both sides.” 

True,” said the doctor, but the obstructive class 
in both races, and especially in the white race, is so 
numerous and powerful that the voices and wishes of 
the better element are practically suppressed.” 

Truth is the saviour of the world,” said Stanford. 

Education is a series of approximations towards 
truth. The most important step towards the pacifica- 
tion of this country is the education of the illiterate 
whites of the South, who despise the negro church, the 
negro school- house, and the negro voter.” 

The negro question is an inflammable subject, for 
beneath the merely industrial and political surface of 
it there lie social and moral issues of tremendous im- 


THE DUEL. 


233 


portanoe. The conversation grew more and more ani- 
mated, and was even becoming acrimonious, when the 
head-waiter announced that lunch was ready. 

As the gentlemen rose to their feet, Mr. Canova ex- 
claimed, — 

Let us be thankful for this escape from a political 
discussion, which resembles that labyrinth out in the 
grounds. You travel and travel round and round, 
never know where you are, make no progress, and end 
where you began, if you ever end at all.’^ 

The table was supplied and served in the best style 
of the French cuisine. The traditional ^ Yeast and 
flow’^ went on in the happiest manner. The anxieties 
of the day were dissipated. The spirit of friendship 
was in the ascendant. Toasts were drunk, and many 
wise and witty things were said. Are they not all re- 
corded imperishably in the spiritual phonograph of mem- 
ory, from which they can be unrolled and made vocal 
again a thousand years hence under proper conditions ? 

When the affair was over and the party ready to 
leave their seats. Colonel McLean arose and said, — 

I reckon, gentlemen, that I have made more mis- 
takes and more apologies than any man of my age in 

the country. Nature gave me a hasty temper 

And,^’ interrupted Stanford, a generous heart, iaj 
that the intuitive wisdom of the one might correct the 
errors of the other.^^ 

All the guests applauded. 

Thank you ! thank you,’^ said McLean, for your 
very kind estimate. I was going to say that we have 
all committed, Mr. Stanford excepted, a grievous mis- 
take, for which we should make a graceful apology.’^ 
20 * 


234 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


What was the mistake?’^ cried several voices at once. 

The war of the Confederacy against the Union of 
the States. 

And the apology 

Devotion to the Union, and justice and humanity 
to the negro. The North asks no more : the South 
should offer no less.^’ 

There was a confused murmur of assent and dissent. 

I am confident,’^ said Stanford, that in this and 
in all things the noble heart of the South will finally 
correct all the errors of its hasty temper.” 

endorse your sentiment,” said Colonel Du Val- 
court, in his polished and courtly manner, — “ ^devotion 
to the Union : justice and humanity to the negro.’ But 
I wish it to be clearly understood, that we owe no apol- 
ogy to the party which obtained temporary possession of 
the United States government in 1861, and waged war 
upon the southern people. I will render it no apology 
for the insignificant part I took in the struggle. Under 
the same circumstances I would do the same thing, and 
repeat it to eternity. 

We are devoted to the Union, sir, because it is still 
the freest and best government on the earth. W e are just 
and humane to the negro, because we have been made 
so by Christian culture. But apology to the Bepub- 
lican party, sir? Never, never! We fought for the 
rights of the States, without which no just union of 
the States is possible. We southern soldiers were 
neither rebels nor traitors. We were the defenders of 
the old Constitution and the true representatives of the 
Eevolutionary fathers.” 

The spirit of the Army of Northern Virginia flashed 


THE DUEL. 


235 


in the old man’s eyes. The Southerners about him 
caught the contagion. He expressed the doctrines for 
which a young nation had perished unborn in the 
womb of time. 

Concede/’ said the doctor, anxious to avert a politi- 
cal discussion and to save Stanford’s feelings, — concede 
that the northern people have proved themselves gen- 
erous conquerors ; that the great leaders of Republi- 
can thought — Lincoln, Sumner, Beecher, Greeley, and 
others — displayed a superb magnanimity; that Grant’s 
treatment of Lee was one of the noblest spectacles in 
history ” 

I concede it all,” said Du Yalcourt, in a softened 
tone. ^^They are a great, brave, civilized, Christian 
people. If it were otherwise, we could not live with 
them in peace.” 

Canova sprang to his feet, and the rest followed him. 

No more wars ! no more duels ! no more politics !” 
he shouted. Bravos indicated their acquiescence in this 
peaceful sentiment. 

“ There’s a good time coming, boys ! a good time 
coming !” chanted a young Creole voice, in which the 
vibratory effects of champagne upon the system were 
slightly manifested. 

A rousing cheer was given for the good times, past, 
present, and coming ; and the party moved out to take 
the train. 

When they reached the terminus of the West End 
road upon Canal Street, the company separated in high 
spirits. Stanford hurried at once to Washington Square, 
where he found Ninette, still trembling with anxiety, 
for of course Madame Marcelle had not found Du Yal- 


236 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


court and could learn nothing of the affair which could 
afford her consolation. He soon kissed away her tears, 
or rather changed them into tears of joy. He told her 
the whole story, and had to repeat it again, while her 
happy heart fluctuated rapidly between admiration of 
her lover for risking his life and gratitude to Colonel 
McLean for sparing it. The loving council then went 
into secret session, and politeness requires that we with- 
draw from the scene. 


THE EXPOSURE. 


227 


CHAPTER XVL 

THE EXPOSURE. 

Miss Lilly Montrose awoke from her little dreams 
o/ the night to her day-dream of magnificent propor- 
tions. This was the morning when the enterprising 
]^fadame Maspero was to conduct the heiress of Gordon 
(Jlarke’s estate to the lawyer’s office, to establish her 
claims, to pass the young lady over to her wealthy and 
fashionable friends, and to pocket her own little reward. 

Lilly had been thoroughly drilled in her part, which 
she would have acted to perfection had the issue been 
different. She did not have a doubt of the strength of 
the evidence to be presented, or of the certainty of her 
splendid change of fortune. She had been building 
castles in the air innumerable, and found it a very en- 
trancing occupation. She felt as happy as the simpleton 
who carries a whole lottery-ticket in his pocket, and is 
absolutely sure of drawing the capital prize. 

One would naturally suppose that this handsome and 
vivacious young woman would have experienced some 
qualms of conscience at the thought of personating a 
lost child and imposing herself upon a distant family 
as a near relative. But Miss Montrose had either never 
reached that stage of ethical evolution, or she had re- 
verted to a lower type of morals under the influences 
of the peculiar life she had been leading. 


238 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


I don’t rob anybody/’ she said. That child’s 
dead long ago, of course. Few children escape through 
teething, and the measles, and the scarlet fever, and the 
whooping-cough, and the yellow fever, and all that. 
Then, she didn’t have any mother to take care of her, 
and was likely to come to grief anyway. Those 
Chicago people are willing to go fifty thousand dollars 
on finding that relative. Well, Madame Maspero has 
found her. I didn’t find myself. I ain’t to blame. 
The little dress and the shoes and the coral necklace 
will prove what Madame Maspero says. And as to 
personating somebody else, I can do it, you bet ! as well 
as any woman on or otf the stage.” 

At least an hour before the time arrived. Miss Lilly 
had finished the most elaborate toilet she had ever made 
in her life. She put on more laces, more jewelry, more 
perfumery, more powder, and more fascinations gener- 
ally than had ever adorned her lovely person even on a 
benefit-night. For she had said to herself, repeatedly, — 
An heiress must look distinguL^^ 

After contemplating herself in a large mirror with 
profound satisfaction, she sallied forth to meet Madame 
Maspero ; and her general appeamnce and stately man- 
ner made more than one passer-by turn and look after 
her with astonishment. 

A far less positive and hopeful feeling prevailed 
that morning in the Meissonier mansion. Dr. Hypo- 
lite’s apprehensions about the meeting had been grow- 
ing stronger and stronger. Stanford had called several 
times, and, although he had always been refused admit- 
tance, each visit struck a new chord of fear in the soul of 
the mesmerizer. He would have made Hilary Dunont 


THE EXPOSURE. 


239 


play his little game of assassination by proxy upon his 
pursuer, had he not known that the fifty-thousand- 
dollar check could only come through Stanford's hands. 

After we get it,’^ he would mutter vindictively, after 
we get it 

He was too intelligent to be thoroughly satisfied 
with the nature of the evidence. It might be sufficient 
to impress and convince an unprofessional mind like 
Stanford's, but he contemplated with vague apprehen- 
sion the cross-examination of that keen young lawyer 
with the black eyes and the broad forehead. The 
mystery of the child and the murder of the father 
were so closely woven together that he trembled for 
himself at the thought that the attempted production 
of the one might furnish some clue towards the dis- 
covery of the other. Nothing encouraged him but the 
idea that he was wrapped in an impenetrable disguise. 

I am positively afraid to go,’^ he said to his wife. 

I have grown terribly nervous about it. Let us 
abandon the scheme.^’ 

Afraid to go said Mrs. Meissonier, smiling con- 
temptuously upon him. ^^You were formerly very 
cool and courageous, as brave as my good father, the 
matador, in the bull-ring. What has revolutionized 
your character? You were once eating ice-cream in a 
saloon with a gentleman. ^Here, Clarke,’ you said, 
taking a little vial from your pocket, have dis- 
covered the most delicious flavoring for ice-cream in 
the world. Taste it.’ The unsuspicious fellow opened 
his mouth wide, and you poured into it a teaspoonful 
of pure prussic acid. He fell back dead against the 
wall.” 


240 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


Do you remind me of that horrible incident/^ said 
Hypolite, shuddering, in order to revive my courage ?” 

^^No/’ said his Lady Macbeth, ^^but to convince 
you of your possibilities, to shame you out of your 
present cowardice by pointing to your former intrepid- 
ity. We obtained a hundred thousand dollars once by 
dash and ingenuity.’’ 

It was your own suggestion, Lucia, and your own 
dash and ingenuity that carried us through.” 

I have the same qualities now,” she said, proudly, 
and I shall get you this fifty thousand, while you re- 
main safe behind your gray beard and green goggles. 
We will fly to Europe as soon as we get the money, 
and escape any possible expose in Chicago.” 

So she gradually screwed his courage up to the 
sticking-point, and they parted to don their different 
disguises, she as Madame Maspero, he as old Mr. 
Pierre Gentilly. For this purpose he went away 
down to his mother’s, on Esplanade Street. 

Hilary Dupont sat in his office, thinking of the 
different chains that bound him, and despairing of 
escape from either, when Lilly Montrose in her ac- 
cumulated splendors was announced. The smiles, 
glances, airs, and posings of the young actress were 
all wasted upon the young doctor. He quickly took 
her card up to Mrs. Meissonier’s chamber door. He fre- 
quently relieved the arduous duties of the house-girl 
by rendering little services to her mistress. The beau- 
tiful Lucia was not yet dressed, and she only opened 
the door wide enough to take the card and to give him 
a glimpse of the tapering shaft of a golden arm. 

“ Ally mon pauvre enfant she said, tenderly. 


THE EXPOSURE, 


241 


" Ah, ma grande consolation he cried. 

He seized the knob of the door, and the door was 
shut in his face. 

Denfield was sitting in his office discussing the legal 
situation with Stanford, when Dr. Holden entered. 

Ah, doctor,’’ said the lawyer, gleefully, you come 
to witness the slaughter of the innocents. The trap is 
well set and baited, the cats are all out of sight, and 
the mice are coming.” 

The old mouse, however, did not enter the trap pre- 
cipitately. He carefully explored all the entrances 
and exits of the Denegre Building, and especially the 
alley in the rear, upon which the windows of Denfield’s 
office looked out. There he seemed to discover some- 
thing which satisfied his protective instincts, for he 
re-entered the house and knocked at the lawyer’s door. 

When the stoop-shouldered old fellow, with his long, 
gray beard and his green goggles, appeared, Denfield 
took him politely by the hand and introduced him to 
the doctor and Stanford. 

Mr. Pierre Gentilly, gentlemen ; not directly con- 
cerned in the case, but a friend and witness for Madame 
Maspero.” 

Mr. Gentilly bowed, and walked across the room to 
take a seat between the lawyer’s table and one of the 
back windows. 

Excuse me,” he said, I am quite asthmatic to-day, 
and would like to be as near the outside air as possi- 
ble.” 

With that he gave a very good imitation of an 
asthmatic wheeze. Denfield threw up the sash, as the 


242 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


weather was very mild, and gave the infirm old gentle- 
man a fan, which was gratefully accepted. 

Soon afterwards the voices of the other mice were 
heard at the door. Miss Lilly laughing in a rich 
soprano key, and Madame Maspero in a soft contralto. 
Something amusing must have occurred. 

Hilary Dupont had accompanied them into the 
building, but professed to be very nervous about it. 
When he reached the door of the office, he was appar- 
ently overwhelmed with sudden terror, broke away 
from them, and fled down the hall. Lilly entered the 
law-office still laughing, but Madame Maspero, remem- 
bering Hilary’s singular nervous condition and how 
often his strange presentiments had been realized, took 
her seat with a grave countenance. 

Miss Montrose nodded familiarly to Stanford, and 
proceeded to scrutinize the other gentlemen, to whom 
Madame Maspero had quite gracefully presented her. 
She then turned her attention to Denfield’s immense 
law-library, which filled nearly three sides of the large 
room, and exclaimed aloud, — 

La ! what a lot o’ books ! Does it take all those 
books to make a lawyer ?” 

No,” said Denfield, smiling at her simplicity, but 
it takes lawyers to make all those books.” 

Two more witnesses in the case were now introduced. 
One was a middle-aged lady of color, fat and gaudily 
dressed, who gazed about her with unabashed counte- 
nance. The other was a white woman, whose thin, 
pale face, haggard expression, nervous manner, not 
daring to hft her eyes from the floor, betrayed hard 
work and mental, suffering. 


THE EXPOSURE. 


243 


This/^ said Madame Maspero to Denfield, pointing 
to the feminine African, is the person to whom I in- 
trusted the child of Gordon Clarke. She will testify 
that she kept her ten years and sent her to the public 
schools. Also, that she bound her over as an appren- 
tice to the milliner business in charge of this lady, Mrs. 
Austin. The manager of the Oriental Varieties will 
testify that he received Miss Montrose into his employ 
from Mrs. Austin, and that her name at that time was 
Mary Clarke. This will make the chain of evidence 
complete, from my own statement, with the child’s 
articles of wear in my hand, down to the present mo- 
ment, when the child herself is produced before you.” 

The pretty brunette delivered this little speech in a 
very engaging manner, and with a positive air which 
seemed to affirm that nothing more need be said on 
the subject. Pierre Gentilly gave a hem of satisfac- 
tion ; Lilly Montrose’s face burst out into smiles and 
dimples ; the two other witnesses nodded and nodded 
approval ; and to the claiming party the case seemed 
about settled. Only the formality of taking and re- 
cording the evidence was necessary. 

There was a dead silence when Denfield spread out 
the relics of little Mary Clarke before him and looked 
around upon his attentive audience. 

These articles, Madame Maspero,” he began, in a 
solemn tone, upon which you rely so confidently as 
mute witnesses to the truth of your story, are not so 
eloquent in your behalf as you have imagined.” 

The claimants and witnesses moved uneasily in their 
seats, and, as we say of listening animals, pricked up 
their ears towards the young lawyer. 


244 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

These little shoes, which you say Mary Clarke 
wore at the time you picked her up wandering in the 
streets, have never been worn at all. They are old 
and rusty now, but a careful examination of the soles 
with a powerful magnifying-glass proves beyond a 
doubt that they have never touched the ground. The 
fair inference is that the child had none of these 
articles on, nor was this little prayer-book in her 
hands when she was lost. The next inference is that 
they were all taken out of her mother’s trunk ; and a 
very serious question for you to answer now is, how 
did they come into your possession ?” 

During the utterance of these words. Miss Mon- 
trose’s face assumed an expression of deep vexation, 
for she saw her little palace of cards tottering in the 
wind. Madame Maspero’s countenance blanched to a 
color as nearly white as a brunette complexion can 
ever wear, and her graceful form sank back in the 
seat. Pierre Gentilly involuntarily threw up his 
hands and uttered a half-suppressed groan, which he 
tried to make the others believe was of asthmatic 
origin. 

^^Now,” said Denfield, in a severe, judicial tone, 
‘^before we proceed to the separate examination of 
these witnesses, I will state in a connected manner the 
result of our own investigations, including the reports 
of our detectives.” 

At the word detectives” the parties in pursuit of 
the fifty-thousand-dollar check were visibly affected. 

Pierre Gentilly wriggled in his chair, and blew his 
nose so vehemently that he nearly displaced his green 
goggles and his gray beard. 


THE EXPOSURE. 


245 

Madame Maspero sighed audibly and hid her face 
in her handkerchief. 

Lilly Montrose fired in, snappishly, — 

“ And you had to get those mean, sneaking dogs to 
help you 

Without noticing this discharge of small shot from 
Miss Lilly’s gun, Denfield went on to say, — 

^^In June, 1865, Mr. Gordon Clarke and his little 
girl, to whom these articles unquestionably belonged, 
sailed from Havana for New Orleans. There were 
two persons on the vessel who became deeply interested 
in the Clarkes and paid them the most devoted atten- 
tion, — Dr. Hy polite Meissonier and his wife.” 

At these words Madame Maspero lowered her hand- 
kerchief and looked at Denfield intently. 

‘^And his wife,” the lawyer continued, ^^said by 
Gordon Clarke, in a letter which we hold in posses- 
sion, to be a very beautiful woman.” 

At this compliment to Mrs. Meissonier, Madame 
Maspero evaded Denfield’s gaze and lowered her bril- 
liant brown eyes to the table. 

Clarke and his daughter put up at the H6tel des 
Etrangers, and were visited frequently by Meissonier 
and his wife. The night that the child was lost in 
the street, Gordon Clarke was murdered in a saloon 
close by the hotel. Meissonier made way with the 
father, and his wife made way with the child.” 

Lilly Montrose displayed unmistakable interest in 
this dramatic evolution of the case. Madame looked 
down into her lap and twisted her handkerchief into 
a knot. Pierre Gentilly growled out, in a sneering 
and yet slightly tremulous tone, — 

21 * 


246 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


do you entertain us, sir, with this little ro- 
mance ? It is not at all amusing, and seems very far 
away from the business in hand.’^ 

This is one of the romances of real life,^^ said the 
lawyer, ^^and it will have a deeply interesting and very 
unexpected denouement. So, listen to the rest of it. 
Meissonier possessed himself of Clarke’s trunks and 
papers, — papers of great value. He took them to 
New York, personated Clarke, forged his name, ob- 
tained his money, and fled with his beautiful wife to 
Europe.” 

Madame Maspero and Pierre Gentilly were greatly 
excited, but they showed it in different ways. The 
lady sank lower down in her seat, her eyes still flxed 
upon her lap, like one half paralyzed with fear. Gen- 
tilly sprang from his chair and paced the room, looking 
first at one window and then at the other. 

Keep your seat,” said Denfield, quietly. I do 
not see why a Gentilly should worry himself over the 
crimes of the Meissoniers.” 

You are trifling with us, sir,” said Gentilly, fiercely. 

We come here, sir, voluntarily, on business of great 
importance to your client, and you entertain us with a 
long story of robbery and murder, which has no bear- 
ing upon the case. What does it mean ?” 

Softly, softly !” said the lawyer. “ I am running a 
train of thought which will soon make connection with 
yours, and all will be explained.” 

Pierre Gentilly continued to pace the floor from 
window to window. Maspero continued silent and 
downcast. The white and black witnesses looked at 
each other in a frightened, bewildered way, but dared 


THE EXPOSURE. 247 

not move. Holden and Stanford watched “ the slaughter 
of the innocents’^ with increasing interest. 

This is getting to be almost as good as a play,” 
cried Lilly Montrose, with a little hysterical laugh. 

^^Now,” said Denfield, ‘Sve approach the supreme 
point at issue. I expect now to show you where 
Madame Maspero obtained the articles which belonged 
to the Clarkes.” 

The guilty parties looked at the lawyer and then 
at each other in evident trepidation and amazement. 
^^What upon earth does he mean?” was their silent 
thought. 

Denfield opened a door leading into another room 
and spoke to some one within. 

Two men in police uniform appeared, lugging in 
two large, very old empty trunks, covered with canvas, 
which had recently been ripped open for inspection. 
All eyes were riveted upon these dilapidated articles. 

^^See,” said Denfield, ^Hhe names upon these old 
trunks, barely visible, ^Gordon Clarke, San Jos6, C. R.,’ 
and here, ^ Mrs. M. G. Clarke, San Jos6, C. R.’ These 
old trunks, mute evidences of murder and robbery, 
were found in a deserted attic, used only as a lumber- 
room, in the house of Madame Fortier, the mother of 
Dr. Meissonier. The neglect of criminals to do some 
one little thing often leads to their detection and pun- 
ishment. Why did they not destroy these trunks ?” 

Gentilly now bristled up with bravado, the last card 
in his hand, and always a weak one. 

^^Come, ladies,” he said, in a loud, angry voice, ^Get 
us retire. We need not listen to the base insinuations 
which are couched under the language of this man.” 


248 


A MFSTEEF OF NEW ORLEANS. 


You cannot leave this room at present,” said Den- 
field, firmly, placing himself between the prisoner and 
the door. 

Not leave this room, sir !” blustered Gentilly, with 
a threatening swagger. “You just said, sir, that Meis- 
sonier’s affairs were nothing to me. Nor are they, sir. 
How dare you threaten my personal liberty ?” 

“Because, sir,” said Denfield, coolly, “these officers 
of the law have a warrant for your arrest. You are 
Dr. Meissonier, and this woman is your wife.” 

All rose to their feet, except Madame Maspero, who 
gave a faint shriek, reeled from her chair, and fell to 
the floor. 

Lilly Montrose knelt beside her and loosened her 
dress. “ My God !” she cried out, “ you have killed 
this woman. This is not fainting, but death.” 

“Water ! water !” cried some in the confusion. Den- 
field rushed to his cooler and drew a tumberful. 

Dr. Holden examined her pulse. Everybody crowded 
around. 

“ Quite a serious shock,” said the doctor. “ Heart- 
failure : she needs brandy.” 

Stanford darted to the door to seek the stimulus in 
the saloon on the lower floor. Suddenly the policemen 
sprang forward and ran around the great table towards 
the window, for, lifting up their eyes from the prostrate 
woman, they saw the gray beard and green goggles of 
Pierre Gentilly sinking down on the outside of the 
house. The fire-escape with its iron ladder had proved 
the means of his own escape. 

“Run out in front,” said one policeman to the other, 
while, shouting “ Stop thief !” at the window, he rushed 


THE EXPOSURE, 


249 


down the fire-escape in pursuit. The naturally agile 
Gentilly, now fairly winged by fear, darted into a beer- 
saloon at the corner of the all^y, threw his disguises 
unobserved behind a door, and emerged into Common 
Street as Dr. Meissonier. This worthy gentleman 
rapidly disappeared in a crowd which was witnessing 
an immense procession of some benevolent society 
pass by. 

Madame Meissonier was recovered from her deadly 
prostration with considerable difficulty. Lilly Mon- 
trose aided her in readjusting her bonnet and dress. 

What a wretched, wretched fizzle f ^ she exclaimed, 
contemptuously, to her discomfited confederate. 

“ Get out, with your companion fraud, Mary Craw- 
ford, of Natchez said the lawyer, shaking his fore- 
finger at her. 

With a startled look of alarm, the actress hurried 
her friend to the door. Neither turned around to give 
word or sign of adieu. 

Come, gentlemen f’ said Denfield gayly. Lunch 
at the Pickwick r 


250 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


CHAPTEE XVII. 

OCCULT FORCES. 

Miss Kose Yillemaine has long disappeared from 
sight, to the probable satisfaction of the reader. But 
that black-eyed, black-browed, sallow-faced young lady 
had no intention of remaining out of sight, notwith- 
standing Colonel Du Valcourt^s injunction to keep as 
retired and quiet “ as if there had been a death in the 
house.” She visited and received visits, being intensely 
anxious to know how society regarded the sudden with- 
drawal of Ninette Du Valcourt from its ranks. 

She was perfectly satisfied with her own character 
and conduct. Proud of her opinions and of her loyalty 
to her convictions, she congratulated herself on her 
firmness and consistency. She asserted in her conver- 
sations the supremacy of the white race, and the neces- 
sity of maintaining the absolute purity of social life. 
No democratic editor on the eve of an election could 
have been better supplied with arguments or more 
vehement in their expression. 

This line of extenuation was successful with many 
jxjrsons, who took the color of their opinions from the 
average sentiment of people around them. But Eose 
Villemaiue was secretly chagrined to find that some of 
the noblest and best, even in her own circle, put a dif- 
ferent estimate upon her little affair. They expressed 
undisguised admiration of Ninette’s beauty, dignity, 


OCCULT FORCES. 


251 


and courage, and profound pity for her changed con- 
ditions. Some of them did not hesitate to give Miss 
Villemaine the cold shoulder. One lady, whose opin- 
ion she greatly valued, had the courage to say to her. 
Rose, if I had been living in the house with Ninette 
and Colonel Du Valcourt, I would have died rather 
than have taken a part in such an exposk’’ 

Rose Villemaine’s black eyes glowed with indigna- 
tion at every expression of opinion contrary to her 
own. She treasured these adverse utterances in the 
spirit of revenge. Revenge is secretive : the stiletto is 
its weapon, the stiletto sheathed in roses. Miss Yille- 
maine flattered the very persons whom she regarded 
with indifference or contempt, or against whom she 
meditated some deadly injury. 

The duel had brought Ninette into painful but 
favorable prominence. It was the nine-days’ wonder 
of the town. Stanford’s gallant defence of her and 
McLean’s generous apology elicited universal admira- 
tion. The case of Ninette was discussed in all circles 
with great animation. There was a debased colored 
element which rejoiced that a nearly white woman had 
been dragged down to its owm level. “ Let niggers be 
niggers,” it said, ^^and white folks be white folks.” 
A correspondingly coarse white element openly and 
ostentatiously congratulated itself that social justice 
had been rendered, and the line of demarcation between 
the superior and the inferior race rigidly and right- 
eously maintained. 

Higher up on the social scale intellectually and 
morally, among the cr^me de la crtme of thought and 
feeling, the matter was invested with profound interest. 


252 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

It was a test-question of the race-problem, which in- 
volved the most serious social and moral issues. It had 
been sprung upon the community under circumstances 
which had never before existed. There was no time for 
discussion, consultation, or elaborate consideration. The 
reserve force of intellect and good feeling in the best 
society was called forth at once for the solution. 

The question was this : Shall we permit a beautiful, 
educated, refined, virtuous young woman, so far white 
as to be indistinguishable from ourselves in physical or 
mental qualities, to be stricken from our ranks, which 
she has so charmingly adorned and can still adorn, and 
to be consigned irrevocably to the degraded social con- 
ditions of the inferior race ? 

The answer of the large majority in the best society 
was, No ! 

There was a growl of dissent from a few old petrified 
spirits, and a gentler protest from certain unprogres- 
sives. Some timid people declined to express an opin- 
ion; some halting souls asked a little more time to 
form one ; a few wanted the decision of the question 
relegated to the social circle in Chicago, into which the 
young lady when married would seek admittance. But 
the majority determined upon the immediate and full 
recognition of Ninette Du Valcourt as a member of 
the social dite. 

^^Take it all in all,’’ said one lady of the pure 
patrician blood, she’s white enough for me.” 

If a line must be drawn somewhere,” said another, 
^Het it be drawn a generation or two back of Ninette 
Du Yalcourt.” 

A distinguished scientist boldly proclaimed : The 


OCCULT FORCES. 


253 


soul of the child is derived exclusively from his father : 
the mother furnishes only the environment. The 
hereditary forces are transmitted directly in the male 
line. Every person more than half white is a white 
person, and should be so considered.’’ 

This statement, which would have excited applause 
in London or Boston, was received with a significant 
^^Hush! Hush!” 

Society, having decided to be just, proceeded to be 
generous. It did not wait for Ninette to return to her 
father’s house, but sought her in the humble cottage of 
Madame Marcelle. On the old reception-day she had 
a regular levee. The neighborhood was crowded with 
carriages. All sent in their cards in good form, and 
everybody called her Ninette or Miss Du Yalcourt. 
For the dear old colonel had said, ‘^Keep my name, 
my darling ! It is yours by law. You will never 
disgrace it.” 

At last, Madame Du Yalcourt, under the pressure of 
higher examples, began to recognize the fact that it was 
her social duty to call upon Ninette. Her husband, 
moreover, had insisted upon it, in rather impetuous lan- 
guage. Accordingly, she nerved herself up for an in- 
terview, and, under the protecting wing of an elderly 
friend, she presented herself in Mrs. Marcelle’s little 
parlor. She was received with that quiet and genial civil- 
ity which we extend to well-introduced strangers, and 
which leaves a friendly margin for better acquaintance. 

Rose Yillemaine was exceedingly disgusted with this 
blocking of her game, and this emphatic reversal of 
her own decisions. She wrongly attributed the spon- 
taneous outburst of good will and liberal sentiment, 
22 


254 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


which already existed in the heart of society, to a radi- 
cal change of opinion on a vital subject. At first she 
bitterly opposed what she called her mother^s weakness, 
in yielding to a popular pressure which she declared 
would be evanescent. But as the days rolled by and 
the pressure increased, and she saw the star of Ninette 
in the ascendant and herself left almost alone in her 
own circle, her selfish instincts took the alarm, and her 
politic mind suggested that it would be wise and useful 
for her also, at this juncture, to exhibit a generous and 
forgiving spirit towards the young negress ! Certainly, 
she said, she could lose nothing by it. 

Bose, however, determined to go alone, and to select 
a day and an hour of the day when she would be least 
likely to meet any of her society friends. She entered 
the little hall with some trepidation, and requested 
Madame Marcelle, who came forward to meet her, to 
say to Miss Gordon that Miss Villemaine had called. 
Ninette heard the remark from the back room, and a 
clear, sweet voice, speaking to Madame Marcelle, 
reached the ear of Kose. Tell Miss Villemaine that 
when she presents her card on my reception-day. Miss 
Du Valcourt will be glad to see her.’^ 

In dealing with some people it is necessary to exact 
the proprieties. 

Bose Villemaine flirted her skirts indignantly out of 
the door-way. 

What an impertinent young negress she ex- 
claimed. This comes of that Boston education.’^ 

The disappearance of Dr. Hypolite Meissonier from 
the busy scenes of life was as sudden and perfect as if 


OCCULT FORCES. 


255 


his bodily frame had instantaneously melted away into 
its original gases. Not the slightest trace of the man 
could be found in any direction. Unremitting search 
was made for him day and night in all quarters and by 
every avenue, regardless of expense. Gaster and Pe- 
cora, the best detectives that ever were put upon the 
track of a criminal, after ten days’ indefatigable work 
gave up the pursuit. 

Let him alone for the present,” they said. He 
has not left New Orleans. He will come out of his 
hole after a while.” 

Denfield and Stanford were much chagrined at the 
escape of their prey. They could do nothing but fall 
back upon the immense resources of Mr. Ephraim 
Clarke, and ofier ten thousand dollars for information 
which would lead to the arrest, alive, or dead, of the 
concealed murderer. 

The recent developments in psychology show that 
living men may be the sources and fountain-heads of 
good or evil without being seen, known, or recognized 
in any manner whatever. Thoughts are things as reiilly 
as heat or light. They are absorbed, transmitted, radi- 
ated, reflected, according to eternal spiritual laws. 
Every good or evil desire, winged with thought, goes 
forth on its mission of good or evil. Good thoughts 
concentred and fixed upon another redound in some Avay 
or other to his benefit ; evil thoughts are as poisonous 
as foul atmospheres. The old superstition of the evil 
eye had some scientific foundation. Mesmerism or 
hypnotism has stranger stories to tell. 

Various persons in New Orleans soon had reason to 
know that Hypolite Meissonier was living and present. 


256 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

although he was unseen, unheard, and undisco verable. 
From his hiding-place, wherever that was, this prince 
of mesmerists projected his subtle and vigorous thought 
into every avenue of communication he had ever once 
opened. He illustrated the long-established fact that 
the hypnotic power operates at a distance, and exercises 
a tyrannic control over those unfortunate persons who 
have willingly and fully submitted themselves to its 
influence. 

It soon happened that three or four persons fell asleep 
standing on the street, and could not be awakened for 
hours. One gentleman remained on his knees after 
family prayers, to the amazement and distress of his 
relatives. He had to be taken up by force, and, as that 
caused him great pain, he was put to bed. A young 
girl entertaining company fled in terror from her own 
parlor, declaring that her clothes were falling from her, 
and, as no arguments could persuade her to the contrary, 
her friends thought she was insane. Miss Lilly Mon- 
trose, during the beautiful pirouettes of the Cracovienne, 
was suddenly held stationary upon the toes of one foot, 
while the other foot was extended in the air. The pro- 
longed position was immensely applauded by the audi- 
ence, as an exhibition of extraordinary muscular power ; 
but after a while the poor woman fell over upon one 
side like an inanimate object, and was revived with 
much difflculty by hartshorn, brandy, and continuous 
frictions. 

These commonplace experiments of the mesmeric 
platform became exceedingly annoying and mysterious, 
when no operator was visible and the controlling forces 
could not be counteracted. One family called in phy- 


OCCULT FORCES. 


257 


sicians for diagnosis ; another called in policemen for 
protection ; a third called in priests for the exorcism 
of evil spirits. A few persons, who suspected that 
Meissonier was perpetrating these outrages out of pure 
mischief or bravado, renewed the abandoned effort for 
his discovery. 

These stabs in the dark, these thrusts from the night 
side of nature, were directed with special atrocity 
towards his wife and Hilary Dupont. Whether he 
suspected that the pretty coquette was too sweet upon his 
young partner, as he had once intimated, or whether 
it proceeded from pure malice, he kept them in per- 
petual trouble. He inflicted severe pains upon their 
bodies, made them see frightful visions though wide 
awake, and compelled them to commit such foolish 
actions that those who witnessed them began to doubt 
their sanity. 

At last one morning, without knowing why or how or 
being able to resist it, Madame Lucia visited Holmes’s 
great dry-goods store, and, while concentrating all her 
charms upon the waiting clerk, managed to steal a 
valuable piece of lace. On going home the nature 
of the deed and the appalling risk she had encountered 
burst upon her mind, and bedewed her body with a 
cold perspiration. Afraid to return the lace, feeling 
that no one would believe her story, she destroyed it. 
For Hilary there awaited a sterner trial. 

It is not difficult to understand the motives which 
actuated Meissonier in these strange proceedings. He 
was in a state not only of solitude but of mortal ap- 
prehension and anxiety. He had little confidence in 
the virtue or the integrity of Madame Lucia and 


258 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


Hilary, and he trembled lest the reward of ten thou- 
sand dollars might move them to his betrayal. True, 
he held them at present under such mesmeric control 
that it was impossible, but circumstances might arise 
which would alter the case. With Stanford removed 
by Hilary, Hilary brought to the gallows, and Lucia 
safe in the penitentiary, he saw the coast would be 
clear for his happy escape by certain means which he 
still held in reserve. He had been practising or re- 
hearsing all his powers for these grand achievements. 

Returning late one evening from the charming ren- 
dezvous of engaged lovers, Hugh Stanford went into 
the ladies’ entrance of the Hotel Royal. An immense 
spiral staircase stands in the centre of the little marble- 
paved hall and runs all the way from the bottom to 
the top of the building. Behind the staircase, from 
the door, is the elevator of the hotel. As Stanford 
entered he noticed a young gentleman with very long 
black hair standing upon the steps of the stair with 
his back towards him. As he moved around the 
spiral to reach the elevator, he might have seen the 
face of this person, had he not turned his body so as 
to keep the back towards him. 

Who is that young gentleman ?” he said to the 
man who worked the elevator, in which he was the 
only passenger. 

Don’t know him,” was the reply. ^^He’s been 
loafing around here for the last hour. He won’t 
answer any questions. Too much hair for my taste !” 

A second or two afterwards, Stanford, glancing 
through the glass door of the elevator as it passed 
the floor above, saw the same young man rushing up 


OCCULT FORCES. 


259 


the staircase at full speed, his long black hair floating 
behind him, and his handsome face rigid with some 
stern excitement. It was a momentary flash, but he 
recognized the young doctor whom he had seen in Dr. 
Meissonier’s electrical room. When he reached his 
landing and passed along the side of the spiral stair- 
way, he observed the young man dashing up at the 
same speed and now only some fifteen or twenty steps 
below him. 

Stanford entered a little hall which runs parallel 
with Royal Street, and terminates at right angles in 
a larger passage that runs parallel with St. Louis 
Street, on which the windows of his own room looked 
out. This little area was quite dark, and it was a late 
hour. The whole house was quiet, and this immediate 
locality was silent as the grave. Just as he entered 
this sombre place, an impression forced itself upon 
Stanford’s mind that the young fellow hurrying up 
behind was in pursuit of him. That feeling that 
somebody is following us is not uncommon in the 
dark. He suddenly recalled Meissonier’s boast as to 
what he could make Hilary do. He also remembered 
Madame Caprell’s “second danger, from secret ene- 
mies.” These mental processes, which it takes min- 
utes to record, were executed in a few seconds. Stan- 
ford instinctively turned himself to face his pursuer, 
and that movement saved his life. 

He was scarcely turned when a long-bladed dagger^ 
with which Hilary would have penetrated his chest 
near the left shoulder-blade, struck upon his double- 
cased gold watch, glanced off, and passed through his 
vest and coat. The young man’s momentum was so 


260 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


great that he staggered up against Stanford, nearly 
knocking him over, and then fell to the floor at his 
side. Stanford was upon him in a second, disarmed 
him, and held him by the throat until he was limp 
and helpless. 

What do you mean, sir, by this attack V’ he ex- 
claimed, fiercely, to the young man. 

There was no reply. Released from Stanford’s 
grasp, the victim of Meissonier’s infernal suggestions 
staggered against the wall and stared vacantly before 
him. Stanford understood the situation ; his anger 
was turned to pity. He led the poor fellow unresist- 
ingly to his room, seated him in a chair, lit the gas, 
and examined him carefully. 

Dupont was clearly in a semi-hypnotic condition. 
His painful stupor was probably caused by the sudden 
shock and the failure to execute the command which 
had been impressed upon his mind. Stanford, familiar 
with the mesmeric processes, made strong upward 
passes, blew forcibly upon his eyeballs, saying, in a 
loud tone, It’s all right ! all right ! you are yourself 
again !” 

Hilary at last drew a long breath, looked at Stan- 
ford with a faint smile, and gazed about him with 
astonishment. 

Where am I, sir ?” he said. “ How did I get into 
this room ?” 

^^Do you not remember, sir, what has just hap- 
pened ?” 

Happened?” said Hilary, pressing his hands to 
his forehead. I left home about nine o’clock to call 
upon a friend.” 


OCCULT FORCES. 261 

He paused, rubbed his temples, looked up at the 
ceiling, and said, — 

Then all is a blank until I find myself here. I 
must have been asleep. 

Whose dagger is this?’^ said Stanford, showing 
him the weapon. 

Mine,” he answered, without hesitation ; where 
did you get it ?” 

Do you see these cuts in my vest and coat ? They 
were made by that dagger.” 

^^Well, who did it?” 

‘^Do you not remember, sir, that you have just 
attempted to murder me, and came very near doing 
it?” 

Hilary did not betray the least trepidation. 

Monstrous !” he exclaimed, in the clear tone of 
injured innocence. “Why should I attack a stranger? 
What motive have I for such a crime ? You jest 

“And you positively do not remember the appar- 
ently conscious and intelligent manoeuvres you made 
to accomplish my murder ?” 

“Not a particle of them. I would say the whole 
charge against me was a cruel and malicious fabrica- 
tion.” 

“Then my only solution of the problem,” said 
Stanford, earnestly, “ is that you have been acting this 
horrible and dangerous part under the hypnotic sug- 
gestion of Dr. Meissonier.” 

At these words Hilary Dupont was visibly affected. 
“ My God ! my God !” he exclaimed. “ I see it all. 
That wicked doctor will bring me to the gallows at 
last.” 


262 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


Why do you not break his chain ? cast ofif his in- 
famous control ?’’ 

Ah, my dear sir !’’ said the poor fellow, with tears 
in his eyes. Tell me how to do it, and I will wor- 
ship you. He is a monster, and yet he is my master. 
His voice strikes me with terror ; 1 have no power to 
disobey. As he thinks, I think. He wills, I move. 
He commands, I obey. I am his slave — his automa- 
ton. Ah, it is terrible ! I am helpless — helpless.’^ 

Where is this arch-mesmerizer said Stanford. 

How do I know answered the miserable victim, 
whose freedom of will was lost. He conceals every- 
thing from me. He erases everything from my 
memory. I remember only what he chooses I shall 
remember. 

“ Ho you believe in mysteries ?” he continued, look- 
ing earnestly at Stanford. I have a strong suspicion 
or sentiment that I am leading a double life. There 
is an hour or two lost out of every day which I cannot 
account for. It may seem incredible to you, but it is 
true. I do not know where I have been, what I have 
heard or seen or done, or what has happened. I suspect 
that I have been with Meissonier, and that he is using 
me to perfect his concealment and to carry out his plan.” 

“And you cannot possibly remember where you 
have been?” 

“ Indeed I cannot. I sometimes try and try, and 
think and think, until my head aches violently and I 
tremble all over ; but nothing comes back to me. I 
cannot even remember how I came here.” 

“This rascally mesmerizer is preying upon you,” 
said Stanford ; “he is a vampire sucking your blood.” 


OCCULT FORCES. 263 

The very word for it, sir, the very word, — vam- 
pire,” said Hilary, shuddering. 

If you do not escape him, he will destroy you.” 

‘^Yes, I am failing mentally and physically. I 
shall soon be hopeless.” And he burst into tears. 

After his agitation had subsided, he was still so 
weak and nervous that Stanford insisted upon accom- 
panying him to his room on Dauphine Street. He re- 
turned home, deploring the development of an art 
which teaches one man how to destroy the free agency 
and rationality of another. 

Conferring with Dr. Holden the next day on the 
subject, Stanford received a more encouraging view of 
the recent discoveries in psychology. 

Hypnotism,” said the doctor, like everything else, 
may be put to good or bad use. When it is employed 
to destroy free-agency and control the human spirit, or 
to commit evil deeds, it is an infernal power, the exer- 
cise of which should meet with condign punishment. 
But hypnotism has unquestionably a just and useful 
place in the hands of the honest and benevolent physi- 
cian and surgeon, and they should not be deterred 
from its use because wicked men have perverted it to 
vicious ends. We had as well drop arsenic and opium 
from the materia medica because some people have 
poisoned others with those excellent remedies. 

I confess, however,” he cjontinued, that the sci- 
entific relations of hypnotism do not interest me so 
much as its metaphysical bearing. The age of barren 
speculation is gone. The age of observation and ex- 
periment has come, and those great instruments of 
discovery are now being for the first time rationally 


264 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

applied to mental and spiritual things. The practical 
fruitage from Swedenborg and Mesmer to Charcot is 
immensely greater than most people imagine.” 

Then you believe these wonderful things said about 
Meissonier are credible ?” 

I do. It was once said, that which happens is the 
unexpected. Henceforth it will be said, the incredi- 
ble is what may be expected to happen.” 


NEMESIS, 


265 


CHAPTEE Xyill. 

NEMESIS. 

Hilary Dupont was nearly made ill by the abrupt 
change of mental state produced by his collision with 
Stanford. He had not recovered from the shock the 
next day, and, when Stanford proposed to accompany 
him everywhere he went, so as to discover the place of 
MeissoniePs concealment, he became at once tremulous 
and apprehensive, and begged him not to subject his 
nervous system to such a violent strain so soon, but to 
wait a few days. He was evidently still under the 
magnetic influence of the undiscoverable doctor. 

Alfairs went on smoothly and happily in the Meis- 
sonier mansion after the disappearance of its formidable 
master. Madame Lucia did the honors of the house 
in the most graceful manner, considerably gayer than 
she ever had been in the dark shadow of her husband’s 
life. Many husbands and wives rebound from the 
chrysalis to the butterfly state on the removal of the 
matrimonial yoke. Young Dr. Dupont continued the 
business in a quiet and successful manner, many people 
consulting him out of mere curiosity to visit the domi- 
cile of a mysterious character now charged with mur- 
der, and for whose discovery so large a reward was 
oflcred. 

One morning, when Hilary was in the office repair- 
M 23 


266 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


ing some little electrical machine, the brunette beauty 
glided softly into the room in her usual cat-like man- 
ner, and greeted him with her stereotyped tender ex- 
pression, ‘‘ Ah, mon pauvre enfant and received the 
uniform response, Ah, ma grande consolation 

She seated herself close to him at the table. Her 
graceful figure, bearing with it a sweet suggestion of 
violets ; her full, golden neck, rising above her rose- 
colored morning wrapper; her wavy black hair, knotted 
behind d la Grecque ; her soft brown eyes ; her cheeks, 
like Marshal Niel rose-leaves ; and her engaging smile, 
in which her whole face participated, — all combined to 
make her mere presence enchanting to the captive at 
her side. 

Hilary,’^ she said, I have something very impor- 
tant to say to you to-day; and you must meet my 
proposition in the most agreeable manner. I will take 
no refusal.’^ 

He fixed his fine eyes inquiringly upon her, but 
seemed too indifferent or too languid to speak. 

We are getting along here very cosily and happily 
without that lean wolf of a doctor. Don’t you think 
so, Hilary?” 

He nodded assent with a faint smile. 

He was so hard and cruel to both of us. Think 
of it ! He has made me a thief and he almost suc- 
ceeded in making you a murderer. Don’t you wish, 
Hilary, that he would never, never come back ?” 

I do, from the bottom of my heart,” he answered. 

Then why should he ever come back ?” said the 
woman, with sudden energy, looking boldly into his 
face. 


NEMESIS. 267 

Because/’ said Hilary, quietly, we cannot control 
his movements, and he exerts a positive command over 
ours. Do you not feel his overshadowing presence 
constantly with you ?” 

^^In a vague manner — yes; and it is hateful to 
me.” 

Hateful or not,” said Hilary, it is overpowering. 
He saddens me, he restrains me, he paralyzes me. Do 
you suppose, Lucia, that if I were a free man I would 
not return the love you are making me with tenfold 
impetuosity ?” 

^^Be free and return it,” cried the woman, in a bold, 
exultant manner. 

Hilary gently repulsed her advances, and said, with 
a deep sigh, I see no way out of it.” 

See no way out of it ? Nonsense ! Now listen to 
me. Obey me, and we will both be free to do just as 
we please henceforth and forever.” 

He looked at her incredulously and shook his head. 

There is a reward of ten thousand dollars offered 
for information which will lead to Meissonier’s arrest. 
Give the information ; procure his arrest ; obtain the 
reward. I will turn State’s evidence about the Clarke 
murder. He will be executed, or imprisoned for life ; 
and we will be freed from him and happy.” 

As the daughter of the bull-fighter uttered these 
words, her soft brown eyes glared up into a sudden 
panther-like ferocity. Hilary was astonished and even 
shocked ; and said, with as much energy as his feeble 
will-power could generate, — 

Are you really capable of these things ?” 

“I am capable of anything and everything for you/’ 


268 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


said the daughter of the ballet-dancer, while her eyes 
softened into the tenderness of the dove. 

Hilary’s moral sense had been long paralyzed by her 
coquetries and her more serious magnetizations. But 
he remained silent. 

Think of the inducements offered you/’ she ex- 
claimed, rapidly and earnestly. ^^Ten thousand dollars 
in cash, deliverance from Meissonier’s control, succes- 
sion to his business, and full possession of the woman 
you love. You are under no obligations to Meissonier. 
You have every reason to despise him. You act the 
part of a good citizen in giving him over to the hands 
of the law. You strike for justice, for freedom, and 
for love. What greater motives can appeal to a brave 
and true man ?” 

“ I will do as you wish,” said the young man, slowly 
and sadly, gazing into the radiant face of the siren. 
Suddenly, as if he had just remembered some insupera- 
ble obstacle, he exclaimed, — 

It is impossible ! I do not know where Meis- 
sonier is concealed.” 

^^Do not know?” said Lucia, in great surprise. 

Do not know ? Then you have merely forgotten ; 
he has erased it from your memory.” 

“ I suppose so,” he said, drearily ; but I have no 
recollection of having seen the man since the morning 
we all went to the lawyer’s office, and I ran away 
because I thought I saw Meissonier lying dead and 
black in the face on the floor.” 

^^That is easily rectified,” said Lucia, brightly. 

Meissonier has told me of the experiments made by 
Bernheim to restore the memory of events which had 


NEMESIS. 


269 


been erased by another magnetizer. I know a process 
which will lead us out of the difficulty.” 

What is it ?” said Dupont, eagerly, for he was a 
victim and not a student of hypnotism, being, as his 
card announced, physician and electrician. 

I will show you,” she said, archly. Follow me 
to the s4ance-room. We must not be interrupted.” 

He submitted quietly. Lucia shaded the chamber 
to a proper degree. 

Don^t make it too dark,” he said ; and let me 
sit in this chair. When you hypnotized me on that 
sofa, I woke up so exhausted.” 

^^Just as you please,” said Lucia, gayly. ^^Now, 
sir, shut your eyes, vacate your mind as far as possible, 
and surrender yourself soul and body to my will.” 

Hilary was so impressible, had been so often hyp- 
notized, and was, moreover, so thoroughly captive to 
the operator, that he passed rapidly into a profound 
mesmeric sleep. 

When this condition was fully established, Madame 
Lucia said to him, energetically, sometimes repeating 
her words with great decision, and emphasizing them 
by clapping her hands forcibly together, — 

You will soon be hypnotized by Dr. Meissonier. 
He will tell you that you must not remember anything 
which has been said or done, or which has occurred 
between you. You must resist his suggestions. You 
must not obey him. You must remember everything. 
I forewarn you, I forearm you, I dissolve his power 
over you. I restore you your memory. You will 
remember everything which has happened since Meis- 
sonier disappeared. You will forget nothing at all.” 

23 * 


270 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

Then, commanding him to sleep fifteen minutes 
longer easily and naturally, and to wake up greatly 
refreshed and invigorated, she left the room. 

Such is the process described by Bernheim and others 
for the restoration of the lost or erased memory of the 
hypnotized subject. Meissonier could have recalled 
everything to Hilary’s waking mind by a command, 
even by a silent, unspoken command, so great and 
positive was his influence over him. But for another 
person to restore his memory, it was necessary to bring 
him to the point of resistance against Meissonier’s sug- 
gestions. This he could never reach by his own efforts 
waking or asleep. Here Lucia thinks and wills for 
him. She forestalls and counteracts Meissonier’s move- 
ments by an anterior and more positive command. He 
will resist Meissonier’s suggestions at their next meeting, 
and awake free. 

Hilary Dupont awoke at the specified time and with 
the expected invigoration. He remembered nothing, 
of course, about Lucia’s impressive lecture. He went 
out into the city as usual. In the afternoon he returned 
in the most exuberant spirits. Her experiment had 
succeeded as well as if Charcot or Bernheim had been 
the operator. 

We are free !” he shouted ; we are free ! I remem- 
ber every minute incident which has occurred for weeks 
past. I will visit Denfield to-morrow.” 

The conspirators spent the evening together, relating 
their experiences and discussing their present plans and 
their future prospects. The interview was not unen- 
livened by love-passages, needless to record. 

The next day the young doctor presented himself at 


NEMESIS. 


271 


Mr. Denfield’s office. He was bright and cheerful, 
and spoke with more spirit and intelligence than he 
had manifested for a long time. 

I come to claim the reward of ten thousand dollars 
offered for information which will lead to the arrest of 
Dr. Meissonier.^^ 

Indeed said Denfield. I am delighted to hear it.” • 

“Yes, I have seen the fox in his hole, and I can 
give him over to the police. On one condition, how- 
ever, — that no charge be made against Mrs. Meissonier 
for conspiracy to defraud, or as accessory in the murder 
of Gordon Clarke.” 

“The former charge,” said the lawyer, “having 
never been referred to the grand jury, can be quietly 
dropped. The charge as accessory she can only escape 
by turning State’s evidence.” 

“ That she is ready and willing to do.” 

“ Bravo ! bravo !” said Denfield ; “ this is glorious 
news for Stanford. Well, sir, where is Meissonier?” 

“Thereby hangs a tale,” said the young doctor. 
“ Are you ready to hear a curious, almost incredible 
story?” 

“ Yes, if it is in logical connection with our business 
in hand. Everything about this Meissonier seems to 
be of the incredible order.” 

“ Well,” said Dupont, stroking back his long black 
hair, “on the same evening that Meissonier disap- 
peared, I was called very late to see a patient in consul- 
tation with Dr. Delrose, an estimable physician in the 
lower part of the city. He desired a visit from Dr. 
Meissonier, but, as Meissonier could not be found, I 
was invited to take his place and represent him. 


272 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


I found the house in a lonely suburb, quite concealed 
from the street by a high fence, and surrounded by large 
magnolias in full bloom. It had evidently belonged to 
the old aristocracy, for it was large and roomy although 
dilapidated, and the carved panels and frescoed ceilings 
displayed traces of ancient splendor. There was a car- 
riage-way overgrown with grass leading from the street 
along the side of the front yard to the rear of the house. 

“ A quadroon woman of genteel appearance, and 
quiet, dignified manners, ushered me into a spacious, 
handsomely-furnished bedroom. Dr. Delrose came 
forward and introduced me to Madame Millington. 
Then, turning to an old gentleman seated in a large 
arm-chair, who took no notice of any of us, he went 
on to say, — 

‘ This is our patient, doctor, — Mr. Alphonse La- 
garde, of Opelousas. He has been long afflicted with 
brain-trouble, probably softening. You see the un- 
mistakable signs of dementia about him, — the vacant, 
almost immovable look, the muscular dejection, the 
fallen lower lip, the dribbling from the corners of the 
mouth, all make up a pitiable picture of organic brain- 
disease easily recognized.’ 

I bowed approval of his diagnosis. 

‘ Incurable, of course, incurable, sir ; but the ques- 
tion is, what to do with these unfortunates, where to 
place them.’ 

i ^hy do they bring him away from his home in 
the country ?’ I asked. 

“ ^ He has lately had some little intercurrent attacks 
of acute excitement, which have frightened his rela- 
tives. They are as much afraid of him as if he were a 


NEMESIS, 


273 


lunatic. Then, they have no physician in the country 
familiar with these rarer forms of disease. His son 
brought him from Opelousas yesterday, to consult Dr. 
Meissonier, who has great reputation in nervous affec- 
tions. He is in this house because Madame Milling- 
ton is a born servant of the old family of Lagardes, 
who owned this property before the war, and she is 
still devotedly attached to their interests. His son has 
provided her amply with money, but was compelled to 
go back to his sugar-plantation on urgent business. 
He will return in a few days to learn the result of the 
consultations. 

‘^‘Last evening,’ Dr. Delrose continued, ^he had a 
paroxysm of violence which alarmed Madame Milling- 
ton quite seriously. I quieted the old man’s agitation 
with bromides, but the attack may return at any 
moment. The lady, with only female servants in the 
house, feels incapable of taking charge of such a 
patient. What shall we do ? What do you advise ?’ 

^ Really,’ said I, with some little diffidence, ^ it 
seems to me that the best place for him, at least tem- 
porarily, is the Louisiana Retreat, where the good 
Sisters of Charity and the distinguished Dr. Shepard 
will give him all the assistance which benevolence or 
science can bestow.’ 

^ An excellent suggestion,’ said Dr. Delrose ; and 
it was accepted by Madame Millington, with graceful 
smiles and nods of approval. 

^^Two medical certificates are required for the ad- 
mission of a patient into the Louisiana Retreat. These 
were furnished by Dr. Delrose and myself. A closed 
carriage was brought through the grass-grown wa}^ 


274 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


around to the back gallery of the house, and the old 
helpless patient was deposited in it. I accompanied 
him as in duty bound, and we were overtaken on the 
way by one of those deluges of rain, which sometimes 
put half of New Orleans a few inches under water for 
an hour or two. 

The Sisters received him at that late hour — nearly 
midnight — with some hesitation, as against the rules. 
The flooded streets, his age and debility, and perhaps 
a month’s payment in advance, worked in his favor ; 
and the next morning Dr. Shepard approved the ad- 
mission, confirmed the diagnosis, and took him under 
treatment.” 

Denfield had been growing restive for several min- 
utes, and he now called out a little impatiently, — 

“Well, sir, what is it to us that Mr. Alphonse La- 
garde is housed in the Louisiana Ketreat ?” 

“ Mr. Alphonse Lagarde,” said young Dupont, “ and 
Dr. Meissonier are the same person !” 

“ Great heavens !” said Denfield, leaping to his feet. 
“ Why didn’t you tell me so without all this circum- 
locution? I will get out a warrant for his arrest 
immediately.” 

“ Soflly !” said Hilary ; “ not so fast. The invasion 
of their domicile by armed policemen without previous 
notification would be improper and unjust to the Sisters. 
I must inform them that, instead of nursing an invalid, 
they have been concealing a criminal. Send your force 
out to-morrow at twelve o’clock. I shall be there, and 
will prevent Monsieur Alphonse Lagarde from turning 
into somebody else.” 

“ Agreed,” said the lawyer, extending his hand in a 


NEMESIS. 


275 


cordial manner, not knowing to what depths of degra- 
dation his visitor had descended. 

The Louisiana Retreat is in the upper part of the 
city, near Audubon Park, an immense brick building 
several stories high, erected as an asylum for the treat- 
ment of the insane and of obscure nervous diseases, on 
a graded pay-principle. It is considered a first-class 
institution in that part of our country, which yet 
lingers behind the rest in many points of social, sani- 
tary, and public improvement. Individualism still re- 
tards the development of the co-operative spirit. 

In a third-story room fronting St. Charles Avenue, 
which was still several blocks away across a green 
common, sat Dr. Hypolite Meissonier in the venerable 
but pitiable disguise of Mons. Alphonse Lagarde. He 
only assumed the attitude of dementia when his keen 
ear detected the approach of some one to his door. 

Meissonier was indebted for his escape and his con- 
cealment to the kindness and ingenuity of Madame 
Millington, one of his early hypnotic conquests. That 
interesting lady had enjoyed a good deal of his pres- 
ence and a great deal of his money in her remote and 
handsomely-furnished rooms. To her he had fled in 
his extremity. She had received him with open arms, 
had pitied his distress, and assisted in his disguise, so 
that neither Delrose nor Dupont suspected the decep- 
tion. Persons of her class and color are sometimes 
singularly discreet, and secrets of name and conduct 
are generally safe in their keeping. 

Meissonier was very, very wretched that morning, 
in contemplation of his dangerous and precarious posi- 
tion. He was indignant that Madame Lucia had es- 


276 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


caped his snare for her imprisonment. His assassina- 
tion by proxy had also failed, and the thought that 
Stanford was living and exercising all the power of 
money for his detection filled him with apprehension. 

Hilary Dupont now entered the room in high spirits, 
but had the tact, on observing Meissonier’s gloomy 
countenance, to charge his own buoyancy to the fine 
weather and a very good night^s rest. The doctor 
regarded him with a look of cold disdain. 

“ Hilary he said, there’s something wrong going 
on around me. I scent danger in the air. I am 
growing desperate with this confinement. I must es- 
cape it. Something whispers in my ear, ^Now or 
never !’ These people have searched everything again, 
and came near finding the prussic acid you brought me 
the other day.” 

“That means nothing,” said Dupont; “they make 
periodical visits for inspection and search in every 
institution of this kind.” 

“I dreamed a villanous dream last night,” the 
doctor proceeded to say : “ I was in a beautiful room 
all safe and happy. A kind of wagonette with two 
splendid gray horses drove up to the door. Two 
gayly-dressed, fine-looking ladies were coming to see 
me. It was singular that, instead of entering through 
the hall, they ascended through a trap-door into my 
room. I was delighted to see them, when, presto ! 
they proved to be two burly, terrible policemen. One 
of them had a pair of iron handcuffs in his hand. My 
dreams sometimes come true.” 

Hilary said nothing to relieve his despondency, for 
he knew that his dream was prophetic. 


NEMESIS. 


277 


'^Take that chair, Hilary,” said the magnetizer, 
and give me the best feat of clairvoyance you ever 
made iu your life. If danger approaches, as I feel it 
does, I want to know all beforehand. I have reso- 
lutely determined to die rather than submit to arrest, 
imprisonment, and trial. No gallows for me, sir ! 
Death is but a sleep, anyhow.” 

Hilary took the chair ; the doctor hypnotized him 
rapidly; and the victim sank into utter oblivion of 
external things, and had his internal sight opened 
around him. 

This clairvoyance is a very old condition, proved 
and verified a thousand times, and still discredited and 
derided by those who profess most and know least of 
the true science of nature. A priest of Apollo at 
Home saw every incident of the battle of Pharsalia 
while it was going on hundreds of miles away. Swe- 
denborg saw the great fire in Stockholm and described 
its locality and progress with correctness two whole 
days’ journey away from the scene. The Societies for 
Psychical Research have collected and verified many 
similar cases. 

^^Now, Hilary,” said the doctor, ^^look first into 
my own house, and tell me what Madame Lucia is 
doing.” 

After a few moments Hilary spoke, — “ She is stand- 
ing in the hall, quarrelling with Lilly Montrose, who is 
trying to blackmail her on account of that attempt to 
extort money from the Clarke estate. I hear their 
voices as plainly as through a good telephone.” 

Glad of it !” said the doctor, fiercely. ‘‘ May all 
the human bees, hornets, and yellow-jackets sting her ! 

24 


278 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 


That woman lias given me a world of trouble. On 
the vessel coming over from France, when she was 
a young bride, I caught a Spaniard making love to 
her. I pitched him over the railing into the sea. No 
one saw it; but his shriek was heard, and a cry arose, 
‘ Man overboard !’ I was first in the life-boat, and 
played the rescuing hero to perfection. I reached 
away over the side of the boat and grasped my victim 
by the neck. He was alive when I took hold of him, 
but I squeezed his windpipe so tightly with my big 
hand that when we stretched him out in the bottom of 
the boat, he was dead ! The secret was my own. 

Ah, well ! Come, now, Hilary, tell me what they 
are doing and saying at the central police-station. 
It is astonishing how my thoughts keep turning and 
turning to that detestable place.’^ 

Hilary suddenly gave a half-suppressed cry of 
alarm. What is it said the doctor, anxiously. 

I see the chief of police standing behind his desk. 
He is speaking to Mr. Henfield. I hear him distinctly. 
He says, ^The police-force with warrant of arrest 
started twenty minutes ago. Your prisoner will be 
here by one o’clock.’ ” 

Meissonier seemed struck with a sudden terror not 
to have been expected of him. He rushed to the door 
and tried the handle. Bolted or locked from the out- 
side ! He ran to first one window and then another 
and looked out : a clear fall of sixty feet ! Escape 
was impossible. He took a seat, and wiped the cold 
perspiration from his forehead. 

Bah !” he said, in a few minutes, during which he 
had recovered his composure. This is not myself. I 


NEMESIS. 


279 


am made of sterner stuff. This horror was sprung 
upon me too suddenly. It was a momentary cowardice. 
I am myself again, prepared for either fortune, either 
fate. 

Hilary,’^ he said presently, in a tone of sad resig- 
nation, ^^can you trace the movements of the police- 
force coming for me 

‘‘ I lost them just now,^^ said Hilary, about Napo- 
leon Avenue, but I have caught sight of them again. 
They are just above the Jewish Home.” 

How much force is it ?” 

“ I see a wagon drawn by two spirited gray horses, 
a driver, and two very large, powerful policemen in 
blue coats and blue caps. One of them holds a pair 
of handcuffs in his hand.” 

I told you so, Hilary ; I told you so. My dream ! 
Are they moving very fast ?” 

^^Yes, they are coming very rapidly; the driver is 
whipping up his horses ; the policemen are laughing.” 

Mon DieuP^ exclaimed the wretched man. He 
then sank into a re very for some minutes. It was a 
kind of philosophic contemplation. He had no religion 
and no faith in prayer. 

‘‘ There is an old Scotch lullaby,” he said, which 
rings in my ear, — 

‘ Hush ye, hush ! ye little pet, ye ; 

Sleep ye, sleep ye I never fret ye ; 

Old black Douglas shall not get ye T 

Dame nature sings all her children to sleep. Black 
Douglas is the devil invented by the priests. Yes, 
death is a sleep, — and I am going to it.” 


280 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


Hilary/^ he suddenly called out, where are the 
blue-caps now 

At the door, doctor,” answered Hilary in a hoarse, 
frightened voice; ^^at the door, parleying with the 
Sisters.” 

Meissonier rushed to the window and looked down. 

“ The infamous, open police-wagon !” he exclaimed, 
vehemently, which drags even the innocent through 
the streets exposed like wild beasts to the gaze of the 
people. Never for me ! My liquid electricity first.” 

He drew from his pocket a small vial containing 
about two teaspoonfuls of prussic acid. He was lifting 
it to his mouth, when his eye fell upon Hilary Dupont, 
struggling to awake from his hypnotic sleep. 

He approached him. 

“ In this supreme moment,” he said, gently, I am 
capable of a great forgiveness. I believe this man has 
robbed me of my wife, and has now betrayed me to 
my death. I pardon him. Sleep, Hilary, five minutes 
longer, and awake in peace !” 

There are unsuspected depths of goodness in the 
wicked, and unsuspected depths of evil in the good. 
Therefore, judge not, lest ye be judged.” 

Voices were heard in the hall ; footsteps were at the 
door. Meissonier lifted the vial to his mouth. To 
the memory of Gordon Clarke !” he exclaimed, firmly, 
and swallowed the contents. 

As the policemen quietly entered the room, he reeled 
from his chair and fell upon the floor, with glistening 
eyes, foaming mouth, and rapidly blackening face. 

By heaven !” exclaimed the officers, with uplifted 
hands, he has committed suicide !” 


CONTRADICTIONS. 


281 


CHAPTEK XIX. 

C!ONTRADICTIONS. 

Ninette Du Valcourt had been all along very 
much interested in the main object of Stanford’s visit 
to New Orleans. Meissonier’s strange murder of Gor- 
don Clarke, his wonderful mesmeric powers, and his 
late terrible death made a profound impression upon 
her. Abhorring capital punishment, she was satisfied 
with his own expiation of his crime, and even with 
the mode of it, remembering the words of Scripture, 
‘^With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to 
you again.” 

Her tender sympathies had run out after the little 
lost girl. Was she now a cherub in heaven? or a 
pilgrim upon earth? If the latter, what had been 
her fate? Who was she? Where was she? Was 
she an outcast ? or had she drawn some prize in the 
lottery of life ? Could the broken link of the family 
chain be ever restored? These speculations were fruit- 
less, but they were absorbing. She rejoiced at least 
in the discomfiture of Miss Lilly Montrose, and that 
the vacant seat was still preserved for the rightful heir. 

Stanford had been surprised that Cora Morette could 
give him no clue, not even the faintest, to the discovery 
of little Mary Clarke. In her profoundest conditions 
she had said, She is living ; she is somewhere about us, 
24 * 


282 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


nearer than we think ; her image is growing upon me, 
she is coming f but she gave no specific descriptions 
or directions or suggestions. 

The thousand-pound-note which lies in the Bank of 
England to the credit of any clairvoyant who can read 
its number and the name written on it has never been 
claimed. The repeated efforts of clairvoyants to dis- 
cover little Charlie Ross have been fruitless, and the 
parental sorrow with which the heart of the world has 
throbbed in sympathy remains unhealed. Does it fol- 
low that clairvoyance does not exist ? Preposterous ! 
It only proves that we know very little of the phe- 
nomena of clairvoyance, and nothing at all of the phys- 
ical or spiritual laws which govern it. It is a continent 
newly discovered ; its exploration is the work of the 
future. As a state of the human spirit, capable of 
both good and evil, we may be sure that it has its limi- 
tations, personal, social, moral, and providential. 

Catholic as she was, and afraid of all spiritual influ- 
ences not specially sanctioned by the church (a church 
saturated with spiritualism), Ninette Du Valcourt be- 
came very anxious to see Cora Morette. So Stanford 
invited her one day to accompany him to the rooms 
of that remarkable thought-reader and clairvoyant. 

Cora Morette’s health had been long failing, and, 
soon after the events recorded in this volume had 
transpired, she passed away from this little world of 
shadows into the vast universe of realities. Her gen- 
tle, modest, and truthful character came out in stronger, 
sweeter light as she approached the border-line which 
separates the invisible from the visible. Her more 
strictly external psychometric powers, as in the detec- 


CONTRADICTIONS. 


283 


tion of disease or outward phenomena, had grown 
weaker ; but her interior perceptions, her spiritual in- 
sight, her faculty of grasping the relations between the 
past, the present, and the future, had correspondingly 
increased. 

Ninette surveyed with surprise the humble apart- 
ments and their occupant, the quiet, diffident little 
mulatto woman of whom such wonderful things were 
told. The languid eyes of the seeress brightened up a 
little at the vision of loveliness which presented itself 
before her, but she evidently had no external recognition 
of her visitor. 

When, however, she passed into the hypnotic state 
and took into her own the delicate hand of Ninette, 
her homely features brightened into smiles, and she 
exclaimed, with genial fervor, — 

Ah, my dear child ! I am so glad to feel you thus 
near to me ! I knew you were coming.^^ 

Knew I was coming?^’ said Ninette, while her fine 
gray eyes dilated with surprise. 

Yes, my dear. Have you never sat in a room and 
heard somebody come down the stairs or walk through 
the hall, and have you not known, without seeing them 
at all, from their footsteps or from some sound they 
made, that such a person was coming, and no other.” 
But you have never seen me and do not know me.” 
On the contrary, I have known you what seems to 
me a very long time. I have watched you and studied 
you over and over again. How lovely and beautiful 
you have grown !” 

Ninette and Stanford exchanged wondering and 
inquiring glances with each other. 


284 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

Suddenly Hugh Stanford rose from his seat and 
paced the room in evident agitation. Cora’s strange 
words and manner affected him deeply, for his knowl- 
edge of spiritual phenomena gave him some clue to 
their meaning. The light of a great and sudden 
thought had risen upon him, a thought almost too 
overwhelming for expression. He merely said, with 
suppressed emotion, — 

Thank God, Ninette, that I brought you here this 
morning ! Why did I not think of it before ?” 

Ninette regarded him with a bewildered surprise. 
Cora Morette still held her hand, smiling, and said 
nothing. 

Stanford took Gordon Clarke’s letter and his child’s 
lock of hair from his pocket. He had often shown 
them to Ninette, who had taken great interest in the 
relics. He now placed them in Cora’s hand, and said, 
solemnly, — 

“ Come now, Cora, we have discovered the murderer 
of Gordon Clarke through your help, and have brought 
him to self-inflicted punishment. See if you cannot 
make a little more progress towards the discovery of 
the child.” 

Cora Morette shrugged her shoulders and threw up 
her hands, with an expression of extreme astonishment 
and impatience. Her pantomime was so expressive 
that Ninette’s heart throbbed with a strange sensation 
of mingled joy and fear. Stanford hung breathless on 
the approaching words of the woman. 

“Why should I look for her?” she said, a little 
sharply. “ Have you not brought her to me yourself 
to-day?” 


CONTRADICTIONS. 


285 


Ninette fell back into her chair, with a faint cry. 
Stanford spoke out, rapidly and almost sternly, — 
Cora Morette, do you mean to say that this young 
lady at my side is the lost daughter of Gordon Clarke 
I say it, and I say it positively,’^ said the seeress, 
without hesitation, because I feel it and know it.” 

An altogether different parentage has been discov- 
ered for her,” said Stanford, the evidences of which 
are overwhelming and complete.” 

^^It is nothing to me,” said Cora, shrugging her 
shoulders, what people say or think they know. I 
do not reason about things. I feel, and therefore I 
know. The child whose hair you gave me to examine 
and this young lady are the same person.” 

To say Ninette and Stanford were profoundly im- 
pressed would be tame language indeed. They were lost 
in an ecstasy of wonder and joy, checked, however, by 
sudden questionings and doubts. 

O that I could believe,” said Ninette, “ that this 
letter was written by my own father !” and she kissed 
the faded scroll as tenderly as if she did believe it. 

O that I could believe,” said Stanford, that this 
little golden lock once grew on your precious head !” 
and he kissed the relic as passionately as if he did 
believe it. 

Oh, Hugh !” said Ninette, after a short silence, 
this is too wonderful, too beautiful to be true. It is 
fancy or dream-work, some kind of illusion. Do not 
let us deceive ourselves and indulge in romantic expec- 
tations which can never be realized.” 

Ninette’s warning brought Stanford’s mind down to 
the practical plane of thought. 


286 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

You are right, Ninette,’’ he said. This evidence, 
so satisfactory to us, would weigh positively nothing in 
a court of justice. It would make no impression upon a 
blind, matter-of-fact world. W e would even be mocked 
and laughed at for believing it. 

^^And yet,” he -added, almost fiercely, believe 
what Cora says is true, — every word of it. 

Come !” he said, suddenly. I have a new idea. 
Let us bid Cora adieu, God bless her ! and visit old 
Lethe Maxwell in the Pontalba Buildings. I will not 
be satisfied until I have questioned that old mammy 
myself, for the good, credulous old colonel may have 
been imposed upon by a fabricated story.” 

The question still rises, why did not the lock of hair 
lead Cora Morette to discover Ninette Du Yalcourt? 
Gordon Clarke’s letter brought her into rapport with 
Gordon Clarke’s mind, of which it was a direct ema- 
nation, and thence she was led to Meissonier’s mind, 
through whom she saw the old saloon-keeper, Madame 
Fortier’s, and the trunks. The lock of hair, however, 
gave only some vague impression of the child’s person, 
but led nowhere. She could see nothing of the child 
beyond what Clarke and Meissonier knew of her. But 
when Ninette grew more and more into Stanford’s life, 
every interview with Stanford brought Ninette more 
and more into the range of Cora’s spiritual perceptions, 
and she felt the growing image of the child forming in 
her, so that, when she met Ninette personally, she rec- 
ognized her at once in the hypnotic state as the lovely 
and beautiful form which she knew was surely coming. 

Lethe Maxwell was surprised and a little overawed 
at the entrance of the elegant and dignified gentleman 


CONTRADICTIONS. 


287 


who accompanied Ninette. She surmised immediately 
that he was the northern lover who had fought the 
duel for her, and still clung to her notwithstanding 
her African descent. The old woman had grown so 
familiar with Ninette’s changed conditions that she 
did not hesitate to allude to her as her grand-daughter. 
Ninette did not resent nor repudiate the title, deeming 
it best to submit at once and gracefully to the inevi- 
table. 

^^Mrs. Maxwell,” said Stanford, after having been 
duly presented to the grandmother by the grand- 
daughter, I am anxious to learn from your own 
mouth your own story of the birth and early life of 
Miss Du Valcourt.” 

Startled by the question and the earnest tone of the 
speaker’s voice, Lethe Maxwell looked, in a kind of 
bewildered, inquiring way, to Ninette. 

Don’t be nervous, mammy !” said Ninette, in her 
sweet, gentle manner. Answer the gentleman’s 
questions freely and fully. , Conceal nothing. He 
has a right to know the truth and the whole truth.” 

God knows, sir,” said Lethe, reassured and looking 
intently at Stanford, wish I could tell you, what I 
suppose you are anxious to believe, that this young 
lady is the daughter of Colonel Du Valcourt, or of 
some of his relatives, or at least of some white mau 
and white woman ; but it wouldn’t be true.” 

What is the truth about it ?” said Stanford. 

What I told Colonel Du Valcourt is true. She is 
the daughter of my child Emily Maxwell and of Colo- 
nel John Gordon of the Union army. That I can 
swear to before God, to the best of my knowledge.” 


288 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

Now begin at the beginning and tell us all about 
it/^ said Stanford, kindly. 

You see,’^ said the old woman, ‘Mt was this way. 

had but one child, Emily Maxwell, as pretty a 
piece of flesh as you ever looked upon, but a wild and 
headstrong girl. We lived in Biloxi, Mississippi, 
close to the light-house. There were many soldiers 
and sailors coming and going there during the war. 
Emily, only flfteen years old, ran away with a Yankee 
officer called Colonel Gordon. It was said that they 
went first to Havana, where the colonel had some 
transport business for the government. I never knew. 
That war broke up families as well as fortunes. Ah, 
sir, those Yankees, who lit down in the South like a 
flock of wild geese, ruined all the young girls of the 
color of mine.’^ 

Mrs. Maxwell wiped a tear from the corner of her 
eye, and continued : 

did not see my child again until the fall of 1866 . 
Then Emily Gordon came out to Biloxi on the morn- 
ing train, bringing a little girl with her, this very Miss 
Ninette, and she went back on the evening train by 
herself, for she left the child with me. She came for 
that purpose exclusively. She took her dinner with 
me, sir, and I have never laid eyes on her from that 
day to this. She was finely dressed and shining with 
jewelry, and looked well and happy. She cried bit- 
terly when she parted from the child. She is now 
sick of consumption, in the Cincinnati hospital, and 
is waiting to get a little stronger, when she expects to 
come down and see her mother and her child before 
she dies.” 


CONTRADICTIONS. 


289 


Here the old woman wept, and Ninette and Stan- 
ford paid a tribute of respect to the mother’s grief by 
a few minutes of silence. 

‘^What did your daughter say about the child?” 
inquired Stanford. 

She said this, sir ; ^ Mother,’ she said, ^ this little 
girl is my own child. Her name is Mary Emily 
Gordon. Her father is Colonel John Gordon. He 
has abandoned us both, as they all do, and I have 
fallen into the hands of another gentleman, who is 
going to take me to Europe. He insists on getting 
rid of the child, but he has respected my feelings 
enough to let me come all the way down here and 
deposit my darling with you. Besides, you know, 
mother,’ the poor thing said, ^ after a while the child 
will be older, and I shall not be fit to keep it. Take 
it, mother, and raise it in the fear of God. I will 
send you money for it whenever I can. If anything 
happens to me, and you should not be able to provide 
for it, place it with the good Sisters in some asylum.’ 
That’s exactly what she said, sir.” 

‘^Well, what did you do with the child?” asked 
Stanford. 

I came to New Orleans with it, sir. The money 
left me by Emily Gordon soon gave out, and I never 
heard from her again. I was so often sick and so oflea 
out of work, the times were so hard and the people 
were so wicked, that I was afraid that the dear little 
thing would suffer in my keeping ; so I placed her in 
the New Orleans Female Orphan Asylum. 

^‘It nearly broke my heart to leave the precious 
child in that great, dark, cold, lonesome place. They 

N ^ 25 


290 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 

let me see her once a week, in the down-staii*s hall 
and in the presence of one of the Sisters. I brought 
her little knick-knacks and gum-drops and cream- 
chocolates, but I suspect that woman took them away 
from her. There’s no true child’s life there, sir, — they 
are so awful precise and orderly. I went by many 
times, but I could never see her dear little face on the 
big galleries or at any of the windows. They keep 
’em all inside, sir. They never see the street-cars or 
the carriages or the fine ladies or the processions go by. 
They try to make saints of little bits o’ children ! to 
my mind a great piece of foolishness.” 

^‘Now, Lethe, said Stanford, ^^how do you know 
that this young lady is the very same person you put 
into the asylum? We must have positive proof on 
that point.” 

I’ll tell you, sir. One day when I went to see the 
child, she was gone : they had taken her away. They 
told me that a rich gentleman and his lady had adopted 
her and changed her name, but they would not tell me 
who they were nor where they lived. Indeed, the 
Lady Superior charged me solemnly never to make the 
least inquiry after the child, and to keep my mouth 
shut forever on the subject. 

I told her that slavery was abolished, and that no- 
body could take my own grandchild away from me 
without my knowledge and consent, that her conduct 
was little less than kidnapping. She answered me that 
I had voluntarily made the child over to the church ; 
that the church had consulted wisely for its temporal 
and spiritual welfare ; and that for the child’s sake I 
should rejoice at her great good fortune, and sacrifice 


CONTRADICTIONS. 291 

my own feelings like a good Christian : all of which 
was true.” 

How did you find her at last ?” 

I grieved powerfully after that child, sir. I looked 
for her in a hundred places, in spite of the command 
of the Lady Superior. Indeed, I was always looking 
and looking for her whenever I was out of doors. 
About six months after I lost her, I was walking late 
one afternoon up Bourbon Street, which was very, very 
far away from where I lived. Passing a fine house, 
with vines all over it and a long iron railing in front 
of the yard, I saw my little Mary Emily, beautifully 
dressed, with curled hair, a blue sash, and little gold 
shoes, playing on the grass with a lovely Maltese kitten. 
Oh, how my heart leaped up into my mouth ! how I 
longed to hug and kiss that darling of mine ! I called 
her, as softly as I could, not to scare her ; but she 
jumped up and ran into the house, with her kitten in 
her arms. I waited at the railing until long after 
dark, for I couldn’t go away, but she did not come out 
again.” 

^^How did you manage at last?” said Stanford, 
quite interested in the naive and pathetic way in which 
the old grandmother told her story, while the bright 
tears were gathering in Ninette’s eyes. 

Well, I went back and back, evening after evening. 
Sometimes I saw her, and sometimes I didn’t. Some- 
times she was just going to ride with Mrs. Du Yalcourt 
in her splendid carriage. Sometimes other little girls, 
beautifully dressed, but not one of them as pretty as 
she was, came to play with her. I would stand and 
watch her, saying ‘ birdie, lovie, dearie !’ at her, all to 


292 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


myself. One day, when I was leaning against the 
iron railing gazing into the yard, one of the older girls 
said to Mary Emily, in a rude manner, wish you 
would drive that ugly old woman away from the rail- 
ing.^ Mary Emily came forward a few steps, looked 
at me timidly, and said, in her sweet little voice, ^ Go 
away, old woman !’ and I went home, and nearly cried 
my eyes out. 

^^At last I got acquainted with her nurse, a nice, 
sweet-tempered young girl. She helped me in the 
matter. I used to meet them in Jackson Square. I 
gave the child little toys, ribbons, and playthings of 
all sorts. I spent all my spare money upon her. She 
got to like me very much. I told her to call me 
mammy, and I was happy at last. 

^^Well, sir. Colonel Du Yalcourt found it all out, 
and asked me roughly why I was so intimate with his 
child. I knew very well that it was not his child, and 
so I had the better of him. I put a bold face upon it. 
I deceived him, sir, as flatly as Moseses sister deceived 
the king’s daughter. I told him that I knew all about 
that child, was with her mother when she was born, 
and had nursed the baby for a long time. I told him 
that she had always called me mammy, and that he 
would break my heart and hers too if he separated us. 

Colonel Du Yalcourt seemed worried and nervous 
about it, but he asked me no questions, at which I re- 
joiced. He said that I might meet the child in Jack- 
son Square, and even visit it occasionally at his house, 
on one condition, — that I never told a human being who 
she was or that she was not his own flesh and blood. 

‘^And now you ask me,” she said, triumphantly. 


CONTRADICTIONS. 


293 


^^how I know that this young lady is the same person. 
Haven’t I watched her grow up from year to year? 
Didn^t I see her coming and going to school ? Didn^t 
I weep and wring my hands when she went off to 
Boston ? Didn’t she \yrite to me once a month all the 
time she was away ? Ask her and she will tell you. 
Wasn’t I in the kitchen, the happiest and proudest of 
all the darkies, when the grand party was given which 
brought her out into society ? Then I was paralyzed ; 
and hasn’t she been as kind and as bountiful to me as 
an own daughter ever since, not even knowing by what 
ties of blood we were bound together? 

Oh, sir, I was proud of my beautiful grandchild ! 
I remember standing one night on the pavement in 
front of the French Opera to see the Du Yalcourt car- 
riage drive up and the family get out. Ninette was 
about sixteen, blooming like a red, red rose. When I 
saw her heavenly face, her splendid opera-dress, and 
her glittering diamonds, I clutched hold of the pillar 
from behind which I was peeping, for I nearly fainted 
for joy as I whispered to myself, ^That is Emily’s 
child !’ 

Hav’n’t I trembled a thousand times for fear that 
Emily Gordon would come home and spoil it all? 
Ah ! my God, I used to pray, let my dear grandchild 
enjoy her white folks, and her riches, and her beautiful 
things, and never, never know or even dream where 
she came from. And if the whole secret has come out 
now, it was never done with my help, or my consent, 
or my knowledge. That’s the whole truth, sir, and 
nothing but the truth.” 

Overcome with emotion, old Lethe burst into tears. 

25 * 


294 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

I thank you, Mrs. Maxwell, said Stanford, rising 
and offering his hand, for your kindness in telling us 
this painful story.^^ 

Ninette kissed her tenderly on the cheek, and they 
left the room with heavy hearts. 

Out of the building Stanford remarked, — 

This interview surprises and discourages me.” 

It saddens me inexpressibly,^^ interposed Ninette. 

I am surprised at the woman,’^ continued Stanford. 

There is cultivated as well as natural sentiment in her 
narrative, and through all her garrulity the throb of 
the motherly heart is unmistakable. I am discouraged 
because there is a great semblance of truth in this 
woman’s story, and it stands in such contradiction to 
the impressions of Cora Morette.” 

As they moved along the street, Stanford suddenly 
exclaimed, in a gayer tone, — 

“Our resources are not exhausted. There is one 
more hope left. Emily Gordon may have told her 
mother a falsehood, which the old lady stoutly and 
honestly believes, and the mystery may have an alto- 
gether different solution. Ninette, I tell you, solemnly, 
Cora Morette has told the truth. I shall start for 
Cincinnati on the evening train.” 

“What for?” said Ninette, in amazement. 

“ To see Emily Gordon before she dies, and get the 
truth from her in a death-bed statement.” 

He hurried to the H6tel Royal to make arrange- 
ments for his departure, and Ninette returned to 
Madame Marcelle’s. She threw herself upon her bed, 
weeping, “ O the cruel suspense ! to stand hoping and 
despairing between such contradictions !” 


CONTRADICTIONS. 


295 


Stanford had just finished his light dinner and the 
preparations for his journey, when a new and great ex- 
citement awaited him. A messenger of the City Ex- 
press Company appeared before him with a letter in his 
hand. It was from Ninette. 

Laconic as Caesar’s despatch from Gaul, or as Com- 
modore Perry’s announcement of his victory, it ran 
thus : 

Emily Gordon heard from. All right. Come 
quickly.” 


296 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


CHAPTEE XX. 

THE CHILD DISCOVERED. 

The great city of Cincinnati sits like a queen upon 
her verdant hills crowned with palaces, laving her feet 
in the bright Ohio, and stretching forth her two long 
suspension bridges like mighty arms reached out towards 
Kentucky and the South. Between this city and New 
Orleans an exceedingly slender and invisible thread of 
communication is about to be established in the interest 
of this story. On slender threads many great issues of 
life and death have hung suspended. 

Cincinnati has one of the finest, best-equipped, and 
best-managed hospitals in the Union. If the reader 
had visited this institution three days before Cora 
Morette had excited our lovers’ hopes and Lethe Max- 
well had blasted them, and if he had entered ward 
No. 3 and walked the whole length of the scrupulously- 
clean, well- ventilated, well-lighted room to the end of 
it fronting the Ohio Eiver, he would have found bed 
No. 34, and at the head of it on a little porcelain slate 
these words : 


MRS. EMILY GORDON, 
Aged 38. 

Pulmonary Consumption. 


THE CHILD DISCOVERED. 


297 


There, propped up on pillows, breathing with diffi- 
culty, lay the emaciated wreck of a once graceful and 
beautiful woman. I^one but a connoisseur could have 
detected the slightest trace of African descent. She 
was very, very ill. Yet there was a lingering grace in 
the movements of her shapely head and of her delicate 
hands. There was a lingering tenderness in her voice, 
a lingering sweetness upon her lips. In her eyes, once 
brilliant with pleasure and passion, now languid with 
suffering, there still lingered the unfading light of 
love. 

A little package, carefully wrapped and securely tied, 
lay on the bed beside her. She held tightly in her 
hands several letters, which she now and then lifted to 
her lips. They were letters received from Ninette Du 
Valcourt. They had enclosed money for her necessities 
and comforts, and, what was to the dying woman a 
thousand times more precious than money, they were 
full of tender expressions of human love and sympathy, 
assurances that her own sadly-changed fortunes would 
make no difference in her filial devotion, and they were 
all signed, Your affectionate daughter.” 

My God ! my God !” exclaimed the poor woman, 
lifting her eyes to heaven. The very, very ill can 
scarcely ever weep, for emotions are feebly manifested 
and tears are not secreted. 

Presently the doctor on his morning round appeared 
at the far door-way, and came down the ward, turning 
to the right and the left, to examine and prescribe for 
this and that patient. It was Dr. Charlie Judkins, a 
large, handsome, middle-aged gentleman, whose genial 
spirit, cordial manners, and well-deserved success had 


298 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

made him the idol of his patients and a distinguished 
ornament of his profession. 

He had been very much interested in the case of 
Emily Gordon, and it was his lovely wife who had 
placed that basket of delicious fruit and beautiful 
flowers on the table near her. 

The good doctor, with intuitive tact, was troubled at 
the unusual gravity of his patient’s countenance, but he 
greeted her in his usual cheery, hope-inspiring manner. 

Now, doctor,” she said, holding his profiered hand 
in hers and pressing it tightly, you must be serious 
with me to-day. You must not flatter, you must not 
prevaricate. You must tell me the whole truth.” 

She paused to take breath, while the doctor kindly 
assured her that he would respect her wishes. 

I cannot stand it any longer,” she said. I have 
been waiting and waiting to get strong enough to go 
back to New Orleans, and, although I am better and 
stronger to-day than I was yesterday, still I keep drop- 
ping back and back, somehow, so that I am ready to 
despair.” 

No, Emily,” said the doctor. Don’t talk that 
way. So long as there is life there is hope.” 

Doctor,” she said, with strange earnestness, doctor, 
you don’t know what depends upon it : happiness or 
misery, fortune or poverty, life or death to some folks. 
If I am ever to return to New Orleans, let me go now. 
If I am to die here, tell me, tell me candidly, doctor. 
Don’t deceive me, for (laying her hand upon the bundle 
at her side), if I am to die here, I have business of 
extreme importance to transact before I die.” 

Emotion and effort had exhausted her so much that 


THE CHILD DISCOVERED. 


299 


the doctor administered a portion of the stimulus which 
was always kept upon the table. 

Well, Emily, he said, gently and reluctantly, as 
if knowing that he was pronouncing an opinion which 
would hasten her death, I would certainly advise you 
to attend to the business matter at once.’^ 

At these words Emily’s countenance fell, as the Ori- 
entals say, and any one could see that the last? flicker 
of hope expired in her breast. When a man is hang- 
ing by the ledge from the roof of a house, so long as 
the crowd below encourage him he holds on, but if he 
hears them say, No ropes or ladders can be procured,” 
his strength gives way at once, and he lets go and 
falls. 

Doctor,” said Emily, gravely, after a moment’s 
silence, you have been very kind to me. I have one 
more favor to ask of you. Please bring, as soon as 
you can, a lawyer or notary to take my deposition, or 
affidavit, or whatever they call it, and have it written, 
signed, and sealed according to law.” 

The doctor promised compliance, and retired. In 
two or three hours he returned, with two gentlemen, 
one of them carrying books and papers under his arm. 
Poor Emily had been waiting with extreme impatience. 
She had begged the nurse to give her extra food and 
even extra medicine, in her simple faith that such 
measures would lengthen out the little thread of life 
for her last effort. 

She greeted her visitors with a feeble smile. They 
wrote out all she had to say, and read it over to her for 
approval. She signed the paper with great difficulty, 
and it was witnessed by the doctor and several others. 


300 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

Then they all bowed respectfully and departed, except 
the doctor. 

Now, doctor,” said Emily, with reviving cheerful- 
ness, thank you for all this kindness and for one more 
favor. Please deliver this bundle at the express office 
with your own hands, and mail this legal document to 
the same address, — Miss Ninette Du Valcourt, care of 
Mrs. Octavia Marcelle, 390 Royal Street, New Orleans. 
Now my poor life’s work is done.” 

‘^No, Emily,” said the doctor, accepting the articles 
intrusted to his care, ^^you are very much fatigued. 
You must take a good, long rest.” 

“ There is no more rest for me,” she said, solemnly, 
with finger pointed upward, — '^no more rest for me 
except in the green pastures yonder.” 

Emily,” said the doctor, suddenly and gently, 
would you like me to send a priest or a minister to 
converse with you on the subject of religion ?” 

‘‘Oh, no,” she said, faintly, “that is unnecessary. 
I have found Jesus upon this sick-bed, without the 
help of other people. He does not come to us from 
without. He descends into our hearts, like a man 
coming down from the upper story into the basement 
of a house. Those good people might not understand 
this matter as I do, and discussion of the subject would 
be painful. I need nobody’s prayers, for God has 
given me light and peace.” 

The doctor rose to retire. 

“ Do you see these letters, doctor ?” said the earnest 
woman. “ I must hold them in n^ hand until I die ; 
but, when they put me in my coffin, please, doctor, lay 
them upon my bosom. They must be buried with me.” 


THE CHILD DISCOVERED. 


301 


The doctor nodded assent. Emily took his hand 
and kissed it, saying, Doctor, good-by ! you will 
never see me again.’^ 

Oh, yes, I will,^^ said the doctor, huskily. “ I will 
begin at this end of the ward in the morniug, and 
prescribe for you first of all.^^ 

He passed down the room. She kissed her hand 
repeatedly after his receding form, and then turned her 
face to the window. 

Night descended with its shadows and silence. 
Everything was so still that the vast building seemed 
deserted. The lights were lowered to mere tapers. 
Those who could sleep slept ; those who were wakeful 
from pain remained in silent thought. The nurses 
moved softly about, only when necessary. Tlie watch- 
man, felt-shod like a cat, peeped in at stated intervals. 

Emily lay very quiet, but breathed more and more 
rapidly and heavily. She made no moan, she asked 
no assistance. Long after midnight she looked peace- 
fully at the window, and saw a great star shining over 
the Kentucky hills. Not knowing where she was, or 
what was happening, the receding spirit muttered to 
itself, I will follow that star. It will show me where 
Jesus is !” 

The morning nurse entered to relieve the night nurse 
of her watch. The great star had set and the gray 
dawn was peeping in. Coming up to Emily, the new 
nurse exclaimed to the other, ^^Why, this woman is 
dead 

Yes, she was dead among strangers, without mother 
or child or lover or friend to close her eyes. 

Yes, dead ! and the hungry soul of the prodigal 
26 


302 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


daughter rose from the dust of the earth where it had 
been feeding with swine, and hastened away to our 
Father^s house, where there is bread enough ami to 
spare/^ 

When Hugh Stanford hurriedly entered Mrs. Mar- 
celle’s little parlor, Ninette’s face was radiant with the 
joyful news she had to tell, but she threw herself into 
his arms and burst into a paroxysm of tears. This 
outbreak of sorrow ended in a merry laugh, which the 
ignorant might have called hysterical, but which occurs 
sometimes in the gravest, calmest natures in high states 
of excitement. 

In answer to Hugh’s urgent inquiries, Ninette 
brought forth the little package which came by ex- 
press, and a pleasant letter of explanation from Dr. 
Charlie Judkins, which enclosed poor Emily Gordon’s 
deposition, or affidavit, duly signed, witnessed, and 
stamped with the seal of the great State of Ohio. 

Stanford read it aloud, with devouring interest : 


To ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN; 

I, Emily Gordon, baptized Emily Maxwell, being about to die, 
but in full possession of my mental faculties, do make, of my own 
free will and accord, the following solemn and true statement. 

In June, 1865, I came over on a steamer from Havana to New 
Orleans in company with a Mr. Gordon Clarke and his little child. 
Dr. Meissonier and his wife were passengers on the vessel. The 
Meissoniers, Colonel Gordon, and myself paid a great deal of 
attention to the motherless little girl, who was as good as she was 
beautiful. 

About ten days after reaching New Orleans, I was walking, 
about nine o’clock at night, along Chartres Street, when I met 
Mrs. Meissonier, with Gordon Clarke’s child sound asleep in her 
arms. 


THE CHILD DISCOVERED. 


303 


She said to me, “ Gordon Clarke has gone off and deserted his 
child. I am taking it to the nearest station-house to he sent to 
some asylum.” 

“ Oh, Mrs. Meissonier,” I said, “how strange that is I How 
can it he true?” 

“It is true,” she said. “ He has either run off or committed 
suicide. He left a card pinned to the child’s dress, ‘ Mrs. Meis- 
sonier will take care of this child.’ Now, we can do no such 
thing. We do not know where his relatives are to be found, and 
the orphan asylum is the only place for her.” 

“Mrs. Meissonier,” I said, “give her to me. We have no 
children, and I am exceedingly fond of them. We will take the 
best care of her in the world.” 

She gave me the child, and I took her to our room. Colonel 
Gordon at first resisted what he called an absurd burden, but 
finally yielded to my wishes. We started for Chicago the next 
day. 

Eighteen months afterwards circumstances arose which com- 
pelled me to part with the child. I had become greatly attached 
to it, and determined that I would trust it to no one but my own 
mother. To secure her lasting affection and guidance, I swore 
that the child was my own. She has never known the truth from 
that day to this. 

I now solemnly declare that the young lady known in New 
Orleans as Miss Ninette Du Valcourt is not my child nor Colonel 
Gordon’s child, but is, to my certain knowledge, the child of Mr. 
Gordon Clarke. 

Madame Meissonier, if living, will testify to the truth of 
this. 

I declare also that the little package which accompanies this 
affidavit contains the very articles of clothing the child had on 
when I received her, and a little gold ring which she wore upon 
her finger and bearing her name, Mary Gilford Clarke. 

The above statement is the truth : so help me God. 

Emily Gokdon. 

Witnesses : 

C. P. Judkins, M.D., 

Jno. H. Sherman, M.D., 

S. S. Carpenter, 

Henry Frost. 


304 ^ MYSTERF OF NEW ORLEANS. 

The little faded dress was produced, the little shoes, 
well worn and cracked, the little ring, dim with age, 
but bearing the delicately-engraved letters of inesti- 
mable value as proof of Ninette’s identity. The lovers 
regarded these precious relics with profound emotion, 
and embraced each other with a joy too deep for 
words. 

Come,” said Hugh, rising, this news is too good, 
this happiness is too great, to keep it all to ourselves/’ 
And he hurried away to see Du Yalcourt, Denfield, and 
Holden. 

Emile Du Yalcourt was the happiest man in New 
Orleans that evening. He had just finished a rathei 
spare and silent dinner, when Stanford and Denfield 
came in and explained the whole matter to him from 
beginning to end. The old man’s dancing days were 
long past, but he bounded from his chair and executed 
some remarkable pirouettes which might possibly be 
called a dance d la Kangaroo. He kissed Stanford 
and Denfield, French fashion, upon their cheeks; he 
kissed Madame Du Yalcourt and Rose Yillemaine; 
and was about to kiss a servant-girl passing through 
the room, when Rose, deprecating such extravagance, 
seized him by the arm. 

The joyous old gentleman then rushed out to all 
the clubs, one after another, and communicated the 
good news to his friends, capping each repetition of 
the story with bottles of champagne. His effervescent 
hilarity continued to increase until psychometry, mil- 
lionaires, African descent, and Cora Morette became 
so strangely mixed in his conversation that his friends 
considerately took him home in a carriage, for which 


THE CHILD DISCOVERED. 


305 


lie paid quadruple fare to the driver. They got him 
to bed at last, and left him in a glorious state of un- 
certainty, not whether the moon had three horns or 
four, but whether he or Stanford was engaged to 
Ninette. 

It is needless to describe Ninette’s triumphant return 
to her father’s house. 

Rose Yillemaine congratulated Ninette coldly upon 
her restoration to the rights and privileges of the white 
race. She offered no apology for her own conduct, but 
acted as if she had been the injured party, and had 
kindly taken Ninette into her favor again on trial. 
Ninette sweetly ignored this preposterous attitude of 
her chagrined step-sister and treated lier exactly as if 
nothing disagreeable had ever happened. 

There is one link missing in the chain of evidence,” 
said Denfield to Stanford, and that we must procure 
from Madame Meissonier.” 

Their appearance at first seemed to trouble the spirit 
of the gay widow. 

Do not be uneasy, madame,” said Denfield, in the 
most courteous manner. Now that you are free and 
happy, being delivered from all apprehensions, you 
will be pleased to know that you can contribute greatly 
to the happiness of others, by telling us the simple 
truth of what became of Gordon Clarke’s child.” 

^^With the greatest pleasure, gentlemen,” said the 
lady, suddenly radiant with smiles. 

^^On the night when Meissonier poisoned Gordon 
Clarke in the saloon, I took the child in my arms to 
drop her somewhere in the street. I chanced to meet 
a woman named Emily Gordon, who came over on 
26 * 


u 


306 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


the steamer with us from Havana, and who had mani- 
fested great affection for the child. On the strength 
of a fabricated story that Gordon Clarke had deserted 
it, she begged me to give it to her. I did so, with a 
great sense of relief ; and I have never seen nor heard 
of either of them since.’’ 

That is the truth, as we know from other sources,” 
said the lawyer. ^^You have no objection to sign a 
written statement of it?” 

None whatever,” said the amiable Circe. 

Having secured that affidavit, our business relations 
with Dr. Hilary Dupont and his grande consolation^^ 
terminate forever. They continue their favorite pur- 
suits, he his mesmerism, and she her coquetries, with 
variable success. If one imagines that these wretched 
creatures are left to enjoy too much of the sunshine 
of life, let him remember that our heavenly Father 
showers his blessings without discrimination upon the 
good and the evil ; but let him also not forget that the 
relations between cause and effect are indestructible, 
and tliat ^^what a man soweth, that also shall he 
reap.” 

^^TJius,” said Stanford, exultingly, to Denfield, ‘^has 
my singular mission to New Orleans been brilliantly 
accomplished. The murderer of Gordon Clarke has 
been discovered, and brought to the same kind of 
death he inflicted upon his victim. The child has 
been found, and is herself the incalculable reward of 
all my labors. My own strong faith in the possibili- 
ties of spiritual methods of research led me to the un- 
dertaking. The occult sciences, to which Meissonier 
had applied himself for gain, proved the means of 


THE CHILD DISCOVERED. S07 

his exposure and destruction. Cora Morette’s subtle 
thought-reading and psychometric powers pointed to 
Meissonier as the criminal, his wife as an accomplice, 
the saloon-keeper and the parrot as living witnesses, 
and the old trunks forgotten as lumber in Madame 
Fortier’s garret as circumstantial proof of the robbery 
and murder. Cora Morette also rejected Lilly Mon- 
trose’s claims and recognized those of Ninette by in- 
stantaneous perception.” 

confess,” said Denfield, “that you have staggered 
and confounded me.” 

“And that spiritual methods of research,” interposed 
Stanford, “ will become legitimate in future.” 

“By no means, by no means !” exclaimed the lawyer. 
“ I am not at all convinced of that. I must make out 
a bill of exceptions and demand a new hearing of the 
case.” 

“ Which means,” said Stanford, laughing, “ that ' a 
man convinced against his will, is of the same opinion 
still.’ ” 

He then added, gravely, “Denfield, if you had been 
one of the ten lepers cured by Christ, you would not 
have returned to thank him.” 

“ Why do you think I would have proved so un- 
grateful ?” 

“ Because you would have said to yourself, ^ It is 
true, my leprosy has vanished, but I do not compre- 
hend, and therefore I do not believe that the words of 
that man had anything to do with it.’ ” 

Dr. Holden’s mind was of a very different order. 
Precedents, authorities, usages, customs, majorities, 
weighed little in his estimation. He had become dis- 


308 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


gusted early in life with the credulities and increduli- 
ties of the material philosophy. He had found in the 
spiritual teachings of Swedenborg the answers to the 
children’s questions and to the philosopher’s objections 
and doubts. He belonged to that increasing number 
of advanced minds struggling for light, who recognize 
the fact that the old order of things is passing away, 
that a new age is upon us, with new issues, new methods, 
new revelations, and an altogether new solution of the 
problem of life. He cordially agreed with Stanford. 

Dr. Holden,” said Stanford to him one day before 
his wedding, ^^you puzzle me. Over sixty years of 
age, having toiled mentally and physically forty years 
in this semi-tropical, enervating climate, you have no 
gray hairs in your head, very few wrinkles on your 
face, and your manner is as bright and buoyant as a 
boy’s. How have you managed to keep so young ?” 

“By constantly feeding my mind,” answered the 
doctor, “as I do my stomach, with fresh and good food. 
By keeping in the front line with the progression, evolu- 
tion, and inspiration of the age. By recognizing the 
supremacy of mind over matter and all external con- 
ditions. By casting away doubts and fears, and meet- 
ing everything with a believing, sanguine, enthusiastic 
spirit. 

“ What the world needs, sir, is change of thought, — 
a radical revolution of opinion on almost every con- 
ceivable question. Men will be sickly and feeble and 
wicked and unhappy so long as they cling to their old 
idols. A change of belief is more health-giving than 
changes of climate. ^As a man thinketh, so is he.’ 
As the world thinks, so is it and so will it ever be. 


THE CHILD DISCOVERED. 


309 


The miserableness of old age is due to the want of 
new, fresh thought, and to the fact that it is constantly 
trying to reanimate and glorify the dead past.” 

The momentous hour, which the reader has antici- 
pated, arrived. The chime of silver bells was upon 
the air. The great doors of the cathedral were open 
wide. The grand altar was ablaze with lights and 
flowers. The priests were seated in their rich canon- 
icals. A dozen young gentlemen ushers, the flower 
of southern society, in their white gloves, white neck- 
ties, and matchless tailoring, darted hither and thither 
to seat the rapidly-arriving guests. Carriage after 
carriage, with liveried servants, rolled up. Policemen 
kept back the curious crowd. The tides of beauty, 
wealth, and fashion, which had astonished the plebeian 
mass outside, poured into the sacred edifice, and crammed 
it in every nook and corner. Sometimes a profound 
hush and sometimes a buzz of expectancy filled the 
whole house. 

Punctually, as true gentility requires, the bridal 
party arrives. As they enter the middle aisle, the 
great organ bursts forth with the marriage march from 
‘^Lohengrin.” It trembles through the whole building, 
and throbs every heart with those ineffable, uninter- 
pretable sensations of joy which divine music inspires. 

A beautiful child of ten years, dressed as an angel 
and carrying an immense Gorhdlle of flowers, precedes 
the party, gazing with unconscious self-possession at 
the beautiful scene before her. Then comes Colonel 
Du Yalcourt, with the bride, clad in superb white silks 
and enveloped with the rarest laces, leaning upon his 
arm. Mrs. Du Yalcourt, supported by the handsome 


310 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


bridegroom, follows next. Then Colonel McLean, the 
brave apologist of the duel, leading Miss Villeraaine. 
Afterwards the four seconds in the famous fight, each 
bearing upon his arm some brilliant and graceful beauty 
of the Du Valcourt circle of friends. 

They are all arranged about the altar in precise form. 
A silence, like that of the green forest, overshadows 
the assembly. The stately priest makes his low and 
gentle exhortation. He eulogizes in set terms the good 
old Catholic family of Du Valcourts. He expatiates 
upon marriage as a blessed sacrament. He proceeds 
with the ceremony. He extracts from each party the 
sacred vows. He imposes upon them the sublime obli- 
gations. He sprinkles them with holy water. The 
ring is given ; the kisses are exchanged. Hugh and 
Ninette are man and wife ! The eyes of every married 
woman are filled with tears. The heart of every single 
woman is thrilling with tender and unformulated hopes. 
The crowd disperses. 

The reception at the Du Valcourt mansion, an- 
nounced for from 3 to 4 p.m., was an elaborate and 
beautiful affair. It is astonishing what a realm of 
illusions can be made, with some taste and a good deal 
of money, out of the halls, bay-windows, verandas, 
staircases, and green lawn of a fine mansion. The 
materials are awning, boarding, evergreen, tinsel, vases, 
tropical plants, and a wealth of leaves and flowers : the 
result is fairy-land ! 

Stanford and his bride stood under an immense globe 
of compact delicate white flowers, on the top of which 
were fluttering two beautiful white doves in the act of 
kissing each other. Here they stood, side by side, and 


THE CHILD DISCOVERED. 


311 


gracefully received their friends, the rich and fragrant 
tide of humanity constantly flowing past them. An 
invisible band from some aerial perch discoursed the 
sweetest love-music of the operas, falling like showers 
of white and red rose-leaves upon the crowd. How 
Stanford rejoiced in his beautiful and brilliant wife ! 
How Ninette adored her brave and handsome hus- 
band ! 

Here in the old parlors, the scene of her childish 
joys and her social pleasures, amid friends and school- 
mates and admirers, amid the blaze of lights, the per- 
fume of flowers, the tremors of music, the sparkling 
of wines, and the sound of merry voices, the bride 
of an hour feels the life of her happy girlhood slip- 
ping away from her forever, fading like a gleam of 
sunset, dying like the breath of a rose. Shall she 
lose it ? shall she cling to it ? shall she recall it ? 

There is no bridge of return to the irrecoverable 
past. She has intrusted her honor, her happiness, her 
life into the hands of one man, who bears her away 
from all that she has known and loved, into a new 
world, to a new life, with its new joys and sorrows. 
And yet with tears and blushes she abandons her old 
world and faces her destiny. She lays down one life 
and takes up the other. And the exultant spirit of 
love within her cries out, I die that I may live.^^ 

As Ninette stood under the fluttering doves that 
kissed each other, and read the admiring eyes with 
which men and women regarded Hugh Stanford, she 
thought in her heart, ^^This is the man who fell in 
love with me at first sight ; who declared his passion 
for me in the sacred shadows of the cathedral in which 


312 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

we were just married ; who stood faithfully and fear- 
lessly by me when he and all others believed I was of 
African descent ; who resented an insult to my honor, 
and gallantly risked his life in defence of it ; and who 
is the handsomest, dearest, sweetest, bravest fellow in 
the world. 

And that was the secret of the whole matter ! 

There are few scenes more saddening than a group 
of loving friends gathered on the platform of a rail- 
road-d4p6t to bid a bridal party good-by. When the 
bell rings, and the incessant chattering ceases, and the 
train moves, what waving of hats and handkerchiefs, 
what kissing of hands, what tears, and smiles which 
were only tears in disguise ! 

The Du Yalcourts were there, and McLean and all 
the groomsmen and the bridesmaids, Holden and Den- 
field, and many others. How bravely and merrily in 
appearance they made their adieus ! How their volu- 
ble tongues in the returning carriages attempted to 
conceal the silence of their hearts ! 

Stanford stood on the platform of the sleeper and 
watched the receding city. These were his thoughts : 

Farewell, New Orleans ! City of brave men and 
beautiful women, farewell ! 

^^City of the Mardi-gras and the French Opera, 
where the Ideal is still cherished, and where virtue, 
honor, and duty are more prized than money, fare- 
well 

When he returned to his seat, Ninette was in tears. 

Ht * 

It is now considered artistic to trust a great deal to 
the reader’s imagination, and to leave a story unfinished 


THE CHILD DISCOVERED. 


313 


like the broken shaft of a monument in a church-yard. 
This writer disapproves of such a course. He is 
thoroughly realistic and gossiping. He would like to 
tell his readers what became of every individual 
alluded to in the book up to the present moment. 
And he is actually pained in heart that his want of 
space does not permit him to describe the splendid re- 
ception which the bridal couple met with in Chicago ; 
the immense joy with which Mr. Ephraim Clarke put 
Ninette’s half million dollars in her hand ; the superb 
residence on Drexel Avenue in which the happy pair 
and their two babies are now living ; and the wonder 
of all the world at the audacity and success of Hugh 
Stanford’s mission to New Orleans. 


314 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


NOTE ON VIVISECTION. 


In the chapter on Modern Magic/^ Meissonier 
confesses that the practice of vivisection had utterly 
hardened his nature. In this connection, Colonel 
Robert Ingersoll’s opinion on the subject is interesting : 

Vivisection is the inquisition — the hell of science. All the 
cruelty which the human — or rather the inhuman — heart is capa- 
ble of inflicting is in the one word. The wretches who commit 
these infamous crimes pretend that they are working for the good 
of man, hut those who are incapable of pitying animals are in- 
capable of pitying men. A physician who would cut a living 
rabbit in pieces would not hesitate to try experiments with men 
and women for the gratification of his curiosity. To settle some 
theory he would trifle with the life of any patient in his power. 
I know that good for the human race can never be accomplished 
by torture. I know that all torture has ever been useless. All 
the agony inflicted has simply hardened the hearts of the criminals 
without enlightening their minds. Never can I be a friend of one 
who vivisects his fellow-creatures. 


SYMPOSIUM 


RACE-PROBLEM 

BETWEEN 

STANFORD, DENFIELD, AND HOLDEN. 


[During Stanford’s visit to New Orleans lie had various con- 
versations with Holden and Denfield on the race-problem. They 
were too heavily weighted with ethnical, sociological, and semi- 
political considerations for the light pages of a romance. The 
question, however, is growing so rapidly in importance, and light 
upon its dark places is so eagerly demanded, that one of their in- 
terviews may possibly prove entertaining to the reflective reader.] 

Stanford. — Circumstances, gentlemen, of which you 
are aware, have awakened in me a profound interest in 
the negro-question or race-problem. I am familiar with 
the best northern sentiment, and you are fairly repre- 
sentative of the best southern thought upon the subject. 
An interchange of ideas might prove useful to us all. 
As you nod approval, I will lay down these separate 
but correlated points for our consideration : 

Who is the negro ? 

What are our relations to him ? 

What are our duties towards him ? 

What probable future awaits him ? 


316 


316 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


Denjield. — Premising, sir, that the answers to tliese 
auestions clearly involve the vital issues of political 
and social equality or inequality, we desire you first to 
state freely and frankly your own opinions ; which, we 
presume, may be accepted as expressing the sentiments 
of the best and purest elements of the Republican 
party. 

Stanford . — The so-called races are not different 
orders of men, but variations of one genus, the human. 
They are intermiscible and fertile. Originating from 
one stock, they will probably by amalgamations be re- 
solved into one composite race. They all possess, but 
in various degrees, similar moral, intellectual, and 
spiritual capacities and tendencies, and are all separated 
from the apes and lower animals by an impassable gulf. 
The races have been differentiated from each other by 
external conditions and circumstances, and by different 
degrees of evolution and development. In spite of all 
external appearances, the internal or spiritual solidarity 
of the human race is perfect. 

The negro is therefore a man in every sense of the 
word. He is of one blood, or life, with all other men ; 
gifted with all human faculties, capable of progressive 
culture, and destined like all the races to spiritual re- 
demption and immortality. Being virtually and radi- 
cally one of ourselves, he is entitled, just as much as we 
are, to all the privileges of humanity, and is included 
in the great social bonds of equality, liberty, and 
fraternity. 

Our duty to the negro is, then, exactly the same as 
our duty to all other human beings. He should be 
accorded the same protection by law, the same rights 


SYMPOSIUM ON THE RACE-PROBLEM. 31 7 

and privileges of citizenship, the same facilities of ed- 
ucation, and the same opportunities for moral, intel- 
lectual, and social advancement. No public avenues 
should be closed to him, no discriminations made against 
him. Every commercial, political, and social triumph 
should be placed within the reach of his industry, his 
talent, and his culture. If he fails in anything, let the 
fault be his own, and let it not be due to unrighteous 
restrictions and obstructions laid in his way by our- 
selves. 

If these principles are true, and a policy founded 
upon them is practicable, the future of the negro will 
be identical with our own. He will be gradually assim- 
ilated, on terms of perfect equality, into the body of 
the republic, and form a healthful and necessary com- 
ponent part of its structure. 

Denjield , — To the political and social idealism of our 
northern friend, I must oppose the positive data of 
science and the inflexible laws of sociology. Religious 
intuitions and philanthropic wishes belong to the do- 
main of poetry, and throw no light upon the character 
of individuals or the fate of nations. Our house of life 
must be founded upon the solid rock of truth, and the 
bottom rock of truth is science. 

No variations of climate or external conditions can 
ever explain the physical, mental, and spiritual dissim- 
ilarities which exist between the white and the black 
races. The natural history of the races proves that 
they originated from distinct centres and are destined for 
different evolutions. Unlike in the beginning, these 
races will be unlike in the end. 

Who is the negro ? you ask. On the oldest Egyp- 
27 * 


318 


A MFSTERF OF NEW ORLEANS. 


tian monuments, thousands of years old, he is repre- 
sented as being a black man and a slave. The negro 
as a race is slothful, savage, improvident, debased, 
and unprogressive. Originating nothing, he has owed 
every upward or onward impulsion to his Egyptian or 
Arab conquerors, or to his white masters. Slaves to 
each other, to their senses, to their passions, to their 
superstitions, the Africans of the western coast, from 
whom our negroes were derived, have not made a 
single advance in thousands of years. 

The sentimentalism of the Declaration of Indepen- 
dence, all men created free and equal, is folly in the eyes 
of science. On the contrary, inequality, struggle for 
existence, war, and slavery are the primal conditions 
of human life and the great educators of the human 
race. Freedom and equality come last, as the fruit- 
age of ages of evolution, and have been only partially 
realized by the very highest reaches of the white 
race. 

The enforced servitude of the Congo negroes to 
the white race has been of incalculable benefit to 
them. Snatched away from his old terrible and para- 
lyzing environment, and compelled to useful labors 
and civilized habits, until the customs of savage life 
were destroyed and the trains of savage thought 
were permanently eradicated, the American negro 
has emerged from the apathy and degradation of bar- 
barism into the light of civilization, for which he may 
thank his two hundred years of bondage to the Anglo- 
Saxon. 

Without the constant presence, stimulus, and aid of 
the white race, the negro cannot retain his acquisitions 


SYMPOSIUM ON THE RACE-PROBLEM, 31 9 

or hold the little advance he has made. Left alone, he 
tends always to recede back into barbaric conditions. 
Hayti, Jamaica, Liberia, where progress has been 
arrested, are silent but eloquent objective lessons in 
sociology. The reason why the negro is still incapable 
of government or self-government is, that his recent 
development has not been a spontaneous, evolutionary 
growth of his mind, but a hot-house culture forced 
upon him by special conditions. Remove the pressure 
and he rebounds back to his former status. 

Stanford . — You do not believe, then, that Chris- 
tianity can promptly redeem a semi-barbaric race, and 
lift it into the higher walks of civilization? 

Denfield . — The spiritual and elevating power of 
Christianity is very great, but Christianity itself was 
the product of evolution, and is specially, and perhaps 
only, adapted to those races and nations who are suffi- 
ciently progressed to receive and comprehend it. The 
races below that line of development have never ac- 
cepted it nor understood it, and are as incapable of con- 
ceiving its spiritual ideals as a savage is of realizing 
what a poet sees and feels in a beautiful sunset. 
Therefore the Christian missionary has never yet 
penetrated even the rind of heathendom, — and the 
conceptions of Christianity held by any other than 
the white race scarcely rise above the level of super- 
stitions. 

Remember how many centuries it took the Christian 
religion to imbue our own Scandinavian and Saxon 
ancestors with its humanizing influences. And yet, 
at the time they burst forth from their northern homes 
and hurled their rude strength against the Roman em- 


320 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


pire, they were already a brave, hardy, industrious, in- 
telligent, self-reliant, aggressive, and progressive people, 
and, as Tacitus describes them, ^Mmpatient of rule 
and of rulers.” How can the poor, feeble negro 
be expected to progress more rapidly than we have 
done? 

Stanford . — What do you think of a statement said 
to have been made by Professor Agassiz, after a careful 
comparative examination of an immense number of 
human skulls, that the average negro brain does not 
exceed in size and quality that of the white child from 
twelve to fourteen years of age ? 

Denfield . — I have no doubt that it is true, whether 
Agassiz made the measurements and the statement or 
not. Every white man with a large experience of 
negroes knows it to be true. Young negroes acquire 
knowledge with even more facility than white children 
of the same age. This is because of their superior im- 
itativeness, which is a monkey attribute. But as they 
grow older the power of acquisition diminishes, and 
the calibre and the corresponding capacity of the negro 
mind seldom surpass those of well-trained and well- 
taught white boys of fifteen. No matter how much 
dignity, suavity, and apparent mental culture the 
negro may exhibit, there remains about him an inerad- 
icable childishness, an immaturity of reason, an inca- 
pacity of abstract conceptions, a feebleness of grasp, 
and a lack of the philosophic and inductive spirit, of 
which he, poor fellow, is of course unconscious, but 
which is very obvious to the white man. 

I tell you, Mr. Stanford, the laws of heredity stand 
like a wall of iron against the advance of your fanciful 


SYMPOSIUM ON THE RACE-PROBLEM. 321 

and radical theories concerning the negro. The negro 
is not a white man with a black skin, but an altogether 
different kind of a man. Some modern philosopher 
has said that every man^s mind is the sum-total and 
complex result of the memories of his ancestors. 
Think of the labors, struggles, triumphs, achieve- 
ments, histories, and memories of the white race 
during the last two thousand years ! and compare 
them with the savage, sensual, beastly stagnation of 
the whole negro life during the same period. You 
will then understand the paradox that every white 
man is thousands of years older and a thousand times 
richer in possibilities than any negro born on the same 
day. From the loins of any white man, however poor 
and ignorant, may possibly spring, by an unfolding 
atavism, children possessed of the splendid and perfect 
characters of Wasliington, or Lincoln, or Lee. Such 
things will be impossible to the negro race, destitute 
of great and glorious inherited memories, for hundreds 
of years. 

Our estimate of the negro having been thus placed 
on a scientific foundation, our relations towards him 
are plain. Our relations are those of superiors to in- 
feriors, of adults to children, of teachers to pupils, of 
guardians to wards. Our duties arise logically from 
our relations, and they are not the duties which equals 
owe to equals. 

Stanford . — Is not this the spirit of slavery with the 
institution left out ? And would it not reproduce the 
institution if that were practicable ? 

Denfield . — By no means. The institution and the 
abolition of slaveries of all sorts are equally matters 


322 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

of historical evolution. The negro is no longer a 
slave, a chattel, a piece of property. At that let us 
rejoice. But it does not at all follow that the negro 
can skip over all the gradual steps which other races 
have been obliged to take, and become at once a citi- 
zen, a patriot, a poet, an artist, a philosopher. 

Stanford . — Let him be a citizen and a patriot, and 
all the other degrees will follow in order. 

Denfield . — Again you are mistaken. True citizen- 
ship comes last of all. The power of self-government, 
as we see it in the citizens of the United States, is the 
crowning result of many centuries of struggle and of 
progress through struggle. Constitutional liberty is 
the supreme flower of civilization. The negro has no 
true conception of what it means, and would sell it any 
time for a mess of pottage. Therefore it is a fixed fact 
that neither his antecedents nor his organic capacities en- 
title him to any share in the law-making and governing 
powers of this country. He should be strictly classed 
with Indians and Chinese, and excluded from the politi- 
cal arena. There will be no secure or permanent peace 
until the Fifteenth Amendment is expunged from the 
Constitution. This must be a white man’s government. 

It is frequently asserted, by those who know very 
little about the matter, that the negroes will make just 
as good citizens as the illiterate whites, known as 
white trash,” who abound in so many of the poorest 
counties of the South. It is not true. The poorest 
of these counties are governed by the whites more 
wisely, justly, humanely, and economically than any 
negro government on the face of the earth has ever 
been administered. 


SYMPOSIUM ON THE RACE-PROBLEM. 323 

It is our duty to treat the negro with impartial 
justice and humanity, to protect him by law, to alFord 
him , all the means of education, and to do all in our 
power to prepare him for his higher possibilities. His 
danger lies in his political aspirations, dangerous alike 
to himself and to us. His worst enemies are those 
who point this grown-up child to the ballot-box. No 
Anglo-Saxon minority will ever submit to the rule of 
a negro majority. The effort of government to main- 
tain that rule will lead to resistance, revolt, and revo- 
lution. 

Stanford . — Under this system of repression and 
pupilage, what do you suppose will be the future of 
the negro? 

Denfield . — He will develop his material, industrial, 
social, and spiritual interests according to the light 
that is in him and the accumulating forces of im- 
proved heredity. He will be immensely aided by 
the influences of the white civilization surrounding 
him, as he will be unable to impair it either by amal- 
gamation or by his inferior and corrupt legislation. 
He will thus live in peace and friendship with the 
whites, and be prevented from reverting to a semi- 
barbaric life. He will be comfortable, prosperous, and 
happy. 

Stanford . — You think amalgamation impossible ? 

Denfield . — I do. When slavery was destroyed, an- 
tagonism was immediately established, and race-preju- 
dices, hitherto dormant, sprang into activity. Amalga- 
mation has virtually ceased. The thin border of very 
white negroes will be absorbed into the white race. 
The darker mixtures will revert to the African type. 


324 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


and in a century the two races, the all white and the 
all black, will confront each other. 

If the negro is eliminated from politics, there will 
be no collision. The industrial pressure of the grow- 
ing white race, constantly and immensely reinforced 
from Europe, will crowd the blacks down into the 
tropics, or even compel their return to Africa. Noth- 
ing can precipitate a conflict but some unwise legisla- 
tion by fanatics or reckless politicians, the supreme 
curse of the nation. In that event the American 
negro would probably be exterminated, and our own 
great constitutional inheritance endangered. We might 
have cause to remember the epitaph which Ellwood 
Fisher wrote for the United States: ^^Here lies a 
nation which liberated the negro and lost its own 
freedom.” 

Stanford. — Tnily, Mr. Denfield, your view of the 
problem from a southern stand-point is dark and dis- 
couraging to one who is enamoured of the words 
equality” and ‘^fraternity.” Perhaps Dr. Holden 
can give a silver lining to the cloud, as I know he 
takes an optimistic view of the universe. 

Dr. Holden . — Both of you, gentlemen, have uttered 
partial truths of great importance, but your conception 
of the problem will be incomplete, and therefore 
erroneous, without the addition of some new elements 
of thought which I shall present for your considera- 
tion. 

It is commonly supposed that the various tribes and 
nations of the earth, savage, semi-civilized, and civil- 
ized, represent the different stages of the evolution of 
the human race; the lowest now occupying stages 


SYMPOSIUM ON THE RACE-PROBLEM. 325 


through which all have passed, and the highest occu- 
pying stages to which all may attain in the course of 
centuries. The theory is not supported by facts. 

The aborigines of Australia, southern India, and 
Ceylon, the Bushmen of Africa, the Terra del Fiiegans, 
the Eskimos, the American Indians, and the west-coast 
Africans, from whom our negroes are descended, are 
effete races, debris of ancient and perished civilizations ; 
peoples who were driven to the wall by stronger popu- 
lations, proving the weakest, the most unfit, surviving 
with difficulty : in no process whatever of evolution or 
development, but in various stages of decay and dis- 
solution. 

Taking a wider range of view, we may assert that 
neither Africans nor Asiatics are men on the ascending 
scale of evolution from animal to spiritual life. Of 
no nation or race upon the earth can we say, these 
people are descended from the primeval men whose 
remains and rude implements are sometimes found in 
deep geological strata. Between these buried races and 
the oldest historic people no link of connection has 
ever been discovered. Africans and Asiatics alike are 
cases of deterioration, degradation, dissolution of 
forms from higher to lower types. Never will they 
progress upward by any evolutionary force inherent 
in themselves. They await in utter stagnation the 
advent of new causes and the introduction of new life 
from outside sources. 

The first civilizations probably existed on continents 
now sunk under oceans by catastrophes which origi- 
nated the story of the deluge in all the ancient nations. 
Escaped fragments of the degenerated races involved 
28 


m 


326 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


in the disaster were the starting-points of our present 
generations of men. The black races were probably 
the oldest of all. Their lost continent lies between 
Africa and South America. The other lost continent 
lies under the Indian Ocean between Australia and the 
Asiatic mainland. 

The original men were whites. How and why cer- 
tain white races became yellow, brown, red, and black, 
and descended into their present states of mental and 
physical degradation, are questions which are fully 
answered by a complex spiritual philosophy of history, 
which it is not necessary here to explain. 

It surprises one to be told that the negroes were once 
white and will be white again in the course of centuries. 
Negroes now sometimes lose the black pigment of the 
skin and become white in patches, sometimes almost 
altogether. This has been considered a disease, but 
such people enjoy perfect health. White children, 
albinos, are frequently bom of black parents. One 
king of Dahomy collected over one hundred of these 
white children from his subjects, who were all genuine 
blacks. These are cases of physical atavism, ves- 
tiges of an ancient, white heredity, and prophecies 
of a future reversion of the whole race to the white 
type. 

Mr. Stanford’s error is that he imagines that results 
can be brought about by legislation which must be the 
outcome of gradual evolution. Mr. Denfield’s error is 
that of the scientist. He cannot imagine that any 
causes ever existed other than those which are now 
seen in operation, or that any new causes could be 
possibly introduced among the formative forces of the 


SYMPOSIUM ON THE RACE-PROBLEM. S27 

world. He thinks the negro has been developed from 
the ape, and can only reach the white standard by a 
long series of evolutionary processes. His premises 
being conceded, his opinions on the subject are per- 
fectly logical. 

But his premises are false. To judge by external 
appearances and from scientific data alone, as he does, 
is not to know the negro at all. The African is vastly 
more and greater and wiser than he seems to be. This 
is true of all men, but especially of the negro. Behind 
and within the savage heredity of several thousand 
years, there lies a magnificent heredity of primeval 
conditions, nearer to God. They are the buried possi- 
bilities of the Golden Age, awaiting resurrection. 
Within that coarse, black rind there lies a possi- 
ble fruitage of character, gentle, beautiful, musical, 
grateful, humble, teachable, the consummation not 
of white civilization, but of Christ’s sermon on the 
mount. 

Denjield . — ^You are making statements which are not 
only romantic but incredible. 

Dr. Holden . — They seem romantic and incredible 
only because you have not yet obtained the key to the 
mystery. The darker races of the earth are in states 
not of undeveloped, but of suppressed civilization. 
They contain deeply hidden within them the tendencies 
and capacities of their most remote ancestors. A later, 
baser heredity has been superimposed upon them, and 
the problem now is how to break through it, how to 
get rid of it, so that the interior nature, long hidden, 
may blossom forth. There is a vast spiritual life and 
power concealed in the bosoms of these people like the 


328 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS, 

water in the rock until it was struck by the rod of 
Moses. 

The rock of human life is even now being struck by 
a greater than Moses, and the living waters of truth 
are gushing forth for the healing of the nations. The 
seals of the great Book have been opened. That which 
was concealed will be brought to light ; that which was 
deeply hidden will now be unfolded. This is the day 
of judgment and of revelation : the dissolution of old 
things and the manifestation of the new. The celestial 
genius of the African, the spiritual genius of the 
Asiatic, the political and scientific genius of the Euro- 
pean and his American offshoots, will be evolved and 
perfected, and will all march together to the music of 
a common humanity. 

Stanford . — These are new and strange doctrines : few 
people will accept them as true. 

Dr. Holden , — Truth has never been accepted by the 
many. It remains always with the few. 

Denfield , — ^Your ideas have, no doubt, been derived 
from the teachings of your great oracle, Emanuel 
Swedenborg. 

Dr. Holden. — Yes, from Swedenborg ; ignored as a 
mystic in the last century, recognized as a great philoso- 
pher in this, and destined in the next to be the supreme 
authority upon spiritual subjects. 

Stanford . — However that may be, I would like to 
know what your peculiar estimate of the negro has led 
you to believe are our relations to him and our duties 
towards him. 

Dr. Holden . — Our relation to him is that of brother : 
our duties spring from our relation. We should re- 


SYMPOSIUM ON THE RACE-PROBLEM. 329 

joice that he is free, and stand ready to protect him in 
his liberty. We should pity his ignorance and strive 
earnestly and generously to enlighten him. We should 
give him the helping hand and the friendly word on 
all occasions. We should overlook his imperfections, 
condone his faults, and pardon his evil doings, pretty 
much as we deal with children. He is teachable, 
affectionate, and grateful. He is not intellectual in the 
ordinary meaning of the word, but he is eminently 
emotional and responsive to kindness. Let us show 
him that we respect him, trust him, and love him just 
as we do our fellow white men under the same condi- 
tions, and we shall not long have occasion to complain 
of him as a dangerous citizen. 

Stanford . — With your favorable estimate of the 
negro, and your generous conception of our relations 
and duties towards him, you ought to be in favor of 
political and social equality. 

Dr. Holden . — By no means. I am in favor of 
nothing which requires force. Every effort to estab- 
lish such results by legislation, in the immature state 
of public opinion, will widen and deepen and darken 
the gulf between the two races. Social equality de- 
pends upon spiritual affinities and similar surroundings, 
and it must wait upon the steady march of evolution. 
Political equality is resisted only because the negroes 
in partnership with political bandits have so terribly 
abused it. As they improve in intelligence, character, 
honesty, and material prosperity, they will rid them- 
selves of the abject slavery in which the Eepublican 
party has held them, assert their independence, and 
co-operate with the white men of the South for tlieir 
28 * 


330 ^ MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 

mutual interests. That is their only road to political 
equality. 

But, my dear sir, I am greatly saddened by all this 
contention. Regarding the negro from a spiritual 
stand-point and from a knowledge of his real capabili- 
ties, I foresee not only that his struggle for political 
and social equality will endanger his very existence, 
but also that his success in all his present aims and 
desires would be the most disastrous blow his true 
spiritual life could receive. He is so different from 
the white man that he requires entirely different con- 
ditions and influences for his development. The bound- 
less organic faith, the submissive patience, the sweet 
humility, the intuitive wisdom which lie within him, 
if now prematurely unfolded, would be trampled under 
foot by the proud, cruel, and selfish civilization which 
surrounds him but which is not his birthright nor his 
abiding-j)lace. 

Why speak of these wonderful things to an unpre- 
pared and incredulous world? A thousand obstruc- 
tions of false religion, false philosophy, false science, 
must be removed from the human mind before it can 
comprehend the light which is again shining in dark- 
ness. The white man in his arrogant self-assertiveness 
will deny and mock. The negro in his present state 
can neither understand nor believe. He must share 
the fate of the white man, which already trembles in 
the balance. He must pass through the fierce ordeal 
of competition and conflict, meet the dangers and trials 
of our impending social chaos, and await his true evolu- 
tion upon the reconstruction of all things upon new 
foundations. 


SYMPOSIUM ON THE RACE^PROBLEM. 33I 

Stanford. — I feel intuitively that there is some great 
truth, perhaps a whole series of truths, underlying 
what .you have said ; but you put the solution of our 
problem so far off, and surround it with such terrors, 
that your silver lining to the cloud only reveals the 
darkness of the cloud in deeper shades. 

Dr. Holden. — All the clouds will disappear. The 
divine order of a new life will be established. The 
federation of the world will cease to be a dream. All 
nations and races will work harmoniously and peace- 
fully together, like the separate organs of the human 
body combining to one end. The African will find 
his true place, as at once the least and the greatest, the 
last and the first. 

Denjield. — See how he shoots over our heads with 
his paradoxes ! He paints some golden sunrise which 
shines only for his own vision. 

Dr. Holden. — No, my friends. I only see from the 
heights what you cannot discern in the valley. Ascend 
the Mount Pisgah upon which I stand, and you may 
look away over the mists and shadows of our transi- 
tion state, and behold afar off the light of the new 
heaven and the new earth. 

Denjield. — What forces do you suppose are at work 
to produce these stupendous revolutions ? 

Dr. Holden. — The one force which includes all other 
forces, — the Spirit of Christ ! 

Stanford. — One Force — one Life — one Law : that 
sounds very much like pantheism. 

Dr. Holden. — Yes, but it is the pantheism of Christ. 

That they may all he one : as thoUj Father , art in 
me. and I in thee: that they a,lso may he one in 


332 


A MYSTERY OF NEW ORLEANS. 


In this high sense all the races are of one blood, and 
evolution is the unfolding or manifestation of the life 
already existing within us. From this stand-point alone 
can we comprehend the fatherhood of God and the 
brotherhood of Man. The solidarity of the human 
race can only be realized in the faith and practice of 
the Christian religion. 


THE END. 


Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia. 


Series of 


Lippincott’s 

O^'-^^elect Novels. 

j 12 mo. paper, 50 CENTS. CLOTH, 75 CENTS. 

No. 134. LADY PATTY. By the “ Duchess.” 

I No. 133. OLD DACRES’ DARLING. By Annie Thomas. 
i No. 132. A COVENANT WITH THE DEAD. By Clara Lemore. 
No. 131. CORINTH I A MARAZION. By Cecil Griffith. 

No. 130. ONLY HUMAN ; OR, JUSTICE. By John Strange Winter. 
No. 129. THE NEW MISTRESS. By George Manville Fenn. 

No. 128. A DIVIDED DUTY. By Ida Lemon. 

No. 127. DRAWN BLANK. By Mrs. Jocelyn. 

No. 126. MY LAND OF BEULAH. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 

No. 125. INTERFERENCE. By B. M. Croker. 

No. 124. JUST IMPEDIMENT. By Richard Pryce. 

No. 123. MARY ST. JOHN. By Rosa N. Carey. 

No. 122. QUIT A. By Cecil Dunstan. 

No. 121. A LITTLE IRISH GIRL. By the “ Duchess.” 

No. 120. TWO ENGLISH GIRLS. By Mabel Hart. 

No. 1 19. A DRAUGHT OF LETHE. By Roy Tellet. 

No. 1 18. THE PLUNGER. By Hawley Smart. 

No. 117. THE OTHER MAN’S WIFE. By John Strange Winter. 
No. 116. A HOMBURG BEAUTY. By Mrs. Edward Kennard. 

No. 1 15. JACK’S SECRET. By Mrs. H. Loveit Cameron. 

No. 114. HERIOT’S CHOICE. By Rosa N. Carey. 

No. 1 13. TWO MASTERS. By B. M. Croker. 

No. 112. DISENCHANTMENT. An Every-Day Story. By F. Mabel 
Robinson. 

No. III. PEARL POWDER. By Annie Edwardes. 

No. no. THE JEWEL IN THE LOTOS. By Mary Agnes Tincker. 
No. 109. THE RAJAH’S HEIR. 

No. 108. SYRLIN. By Ouida. Cloth, $1.00. 

No. 107. A STUDY IN SCARLET. By A. Conan Doyle. 

No. 106. A LAST LOVE. By Georges Ohnet. 

Sold by all Booksellers^ or sent by the Publishers , post-paid, on receipt of price. 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, 715-717 Market St., Phila. 





“ One of the best, if not, indeed, really the best story from her 
pen.” — Boston Traveller. 


BY 


13mo. Clotl:!, $1.36. 


“ She has written a story of great beauty, and of historical value. 

It is historical in the double sense that it introduces real characters of 
Colonial Virginia, and is one of the few novels of the day that will 
stand the test of time and remain a mark of the progress of American 
fiction. It is a stately and elegant composition from beginning to 
tx\dr—New York World. ^ 

** This sad, yet winning tale of colonial times in old Virginia 
comes to an appreciative reader like a strangely real glimpse of life ■ 
and love and hate and jealousy in bygone days. It is an excellent 
story.” — Cincinnati Commercial Gazette. 

“ We all know how charmingly Marion Harland writes ; and in ^ 
her latest work she quite surpasses all previous efforts. Of the char- ^ 
acters which she delineates, the strongest is Col. William Byrd, but it ; 
is his daughter Evelyn around whom the greatest charm centres, and 
whom we must admit is a most exceptional character.” — Springfield 
Republican. 


MARION HARLAND, 

AUTHOR OF "alone," "TRUE AS STEEL," ETC. 


For gale by all Booksellers, or will be sent, post-paid, 
on receipt of price. 


PHILADELPHIA. 


J 


. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, Publishers, 


< 











* ^ 




% ^ 


■/ 'y ^ 


. o »» a qV , t # » 4 ^ c ® " ® 4 



* •• -0^ '*<>. ^oA*' A 

C° ygir/r??^ O 

^ A 
; ^ K 

.« j? -nj.. •. 

^O ’T'‘^«* n'5 ^ 

'#“- •'“ %■. ’" V 

• o'' ‘’ 

1“ » 

V-^> ’• C^'V *. 

/ o 


'♦ ^0" V' . jA" 



<*• *Vt * .0^ 'o . * 

4^'’ 6 ® “ • -• ♦ ^o 







"•^A A* • ^ * * ♦ ^O &****♦ "^A, 




: A-i 


.*1®. 


* o>, ^A <0^ * ^ • ®> \/ **M 

^4* <s. .^jh^msZ^ -6. 





® 4^ ♦ 


° ° 

.* <iy % ■" 


’ *•' vv.* ,0^ ' 

.<y 0 • • • « f>v . n • . ^ 



« • k 


’».'i 

Cr • ^ * • •* ^O 

* • , 0 « ^0 ^ ^ ^ 

• ®4. ****^^ rv* At*o 




• ‘ <^ -•> 
o • . , <* 


.* -j:^ •• 

‘ A<' <* 

r 9 ~ ~ 4f ^ 4V 0 ® * * <» 

♦ ♦ 41PV?5%»> ■* 4^*^ • 

4* £fnl//y^ « 4N V «?oos\\nSfc-# "y. 



• h°a 




•’o . * « 

•5^, . ^ 

iy°'^’h. V 



a(* .0^ ^ '. . . • / 


*‘ 





<5°^ 



0 


jP vV *• 

vv ♦ 


:M£^ :m^ \/: 



^ \ 

0«*^ «.V _t#* 


♦ <‘>^ o V jbS.Xv* ♦ av 'Vj, » I 

♦O*. A.' A H a "Oi 




V 

S ...- ^0^ 

’ ■e?'‘^'\ °«^W‘* <&^\ '•' 

av • ^^''^-4 . ^ '<y 4xy 

*'•••’ aCt "o . * * A s(y 

o ^ « A e^ ^y.1 » ^ ^ Jj/ ^ 0 « • ^ I 




W" :^\ \/ 




* ^ % • 


» • O. <> v' . ^ 




HECKMAN 

BINDERY INC, 

JUL 92 




.. - . . * A <• ♦,.'^7r‘ ■ .(i^ 'V ''.r. T * A 

*• ' • ♦ ^b 6 ® " * ♦ CV •*’'** ^o A^^ C ® 

ifA^- - ^ ^•» . A'®' 

<•’ ° J-*^ ’’b 

"’ A .. ^ "° A® y^ • 

V <>t, iO^ ♦!,*°' 

!^fe: 



j!t=W^ N. MANCHESTER, 
INDIANA 46962 



Ao<> 







c: 






